Playgrounds
by squeekness
Summary: This is where we learn. Part seven and conclusion to my Twilight series ---- no, not the vampires!
1. Chapter 1

Summary: This is where we learn. Conclusion to my Twilight series.

Author's notes: Sorry for the terrible lateness of this post, but life sure has a way of coming up on ya when ya least expect it. Heh, no one knows this better than Kimble I guess, who is nothing less than a small part of myself. I shortened this somewhat from what I had originally planned in the hopes of getting it out there faster. It did need to be uncluttered a bit, hopefully it won't be too choppy. Let me know if it is, eh? Thanks.

Art for this is up at my website for those who are interested. The site can be reached through my profile.

A quick aside should anyone from Marvel out there actually read this. I would like to toss out a loud and profanity filled complaint directed towards Daniel Way for killing off my dearest Wild Child. It was most unexpected and deeply distressing. Did you pluck Kyle out of limbo just to kill off him so pathetically? If so, then here's my heartfelt "fuck you, you most inconsiderate jerkface!"

Ahem. We now return to our regularly scheduled programming......

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(One)

Hank woke from his nap, sprawled out blue and large over the bed in his private Med Lab suite. Star didn't have a scent or a heartbeat like the regular, organic people who lived here, but he knew she was gone from the room just the same. He sniffed the air, looking for her, and growled with an increasing impatience. This was wrong. She was supposed to be here. She was always here at his beck and call and he would not have it otherwise.

He rose and stood, taking a moment for a full body shake to shrug off the last of his sleep. He was growing more used to this new form, to its larger mass and quietly slumbering strength. When he was a little more stable, he wanted to do some testing on himself. The dormant scientist within was waking and it was curious about the changes he had gone through.

It wasn't the only thing he was curious about. He looked about the room, confirming what he already knew. He was alone in here.

He moved to the door and shouted gruffly, "Star!"

A moment later a Siskan came to his door but it wasn't Star. Seth was there and peering through the small glass window in the door. "Hank? Are you all right?"

"Where... is .. Star?" he growled, unable to do this without a flash of large teeth.

Seth grew wary, intimidated by the new changes in his old friend. There was going to be a lot he would have to get used to. "She left to visit Warren. He said he needed to see her for something. I'll go see what's going on."

Hank stepped back, trying to keep his temper in check. With the bodily changes had come this driving feral impatience that was hard to control. When he wanted something it had to be given right now -- when it was desired, as he desired it. There was no asking, there was only taking. His older inner self was not dead and was still here, trying to soothe him into some kind of calm. Star would come, she always did. He would just have to wait.

He couldn't do it. Not just yet. He lasted all of about five minutes and then slammed a fist into a the door, hearing it creak just a bit from the stress. "Star!" he roared more than shouted.

A frightened nurse dared to stand within view of the glass. "Seth has gone to fetch her," she said, her voice trembling with real fear. "I'll send for Asher as well."

"I DON'T WANT ASHER!" Hank bellowed in complaint, his rage increasing exponentially with each passing second. He slammed both blue fists into the door this time and watched in satisfaction as it splintered down the middle without actually separating in two, the glass and the hard wiring for the door lock were the only things holding it together now. It wasn't going to take much more abuse, it hadn't been designed for that. There had been a very good reason that he had been in the holding cell before instead of this room and it was showing.

The nurse fled in a panic at that. She wasn't sure what to do, so she called the first person that came to mind – Logan. Luckily he picked up on the first ring.

"Logan here."

"Sir, we have a problem. Star has gone missing and Dr. McCoy is freaking out. He was taken out from the holding cell because he was doing better and placed in the rear room. It won't hold him now that he is in a rage."

Wolverine was confused. "What do you mean Star is missing? She never leaves him."

"Mr. Worthington asked to see her privately and now we can't find either of them."

"Fine. I'll get right on it."

Logan hung up, scowling with impatience. This was a disruption he hadn't needed.

Done with the day's rounds, he had gone looking for his wife in the hopes of settling things. He had found her at her office but she was with a client so he had been forced to wait. He had been lingering in her waiting room when this call came in, bored, and getting more and more aggravated with each passing minute. Hank wasn't the only one with temper issues. All that and now this.

Wolverine left the room as soon as he hung up the phone and left his potential round two argument with his wife behind, going to the closest security station. It might not be that hard to find Warren – this place was full of scanners, all he had to do was see where the guy had badged last and start from there. One quick check later and Logan stood blinking at the monitor in confusion. Warren had last badged a half hour ago in the latest section of the Complex that was still under construction. There was nothing up and running down there so he couldn't fathom why the heck Warren would be there, never mind bringing Star here with him.

Well, he'd just have to go down there and find out.

Not bothering to ask for backup, Wolverine went down to the deeper levels and to the room where Warren had last badged, taking the stairs since it was faster than the elevators. Although he was rightfully concerned about the odd situation, he didn't think it was so serious that he'd need to strong arm the guy.

That idea began to change when he ended up standing in front of a large steel door, locked up tight. Why on earth would Warren have locked himself away with Star unless it was something beyond bad? Still staring at the door, Logan reached for his radio and called out, "Max, you on?"

"Yeah, boss," came the quick reply.

"Do me a favor, come down to Level C, B wing."

"The new one? It isn't even finished," came Max's confused answer.

"Yeah, the new one. Somethin's not right and I might need a bit of muscle."

Max laughed, happy with the compliment. He was a regular at the gym, looking to compliment his telekinetic ability with some force of his own. "I'll be right there."

Logan clicked off and again pondered the door. He knew he wasn't going to like what he was going to find. He was old enough to know that life just didn't work that way, not in situations like these. He swiped his badge and just as he expected, the stupid box just chirped back at him, denying him access.

"The hard way it is," he growled in complaint and without further ado, popped claws and thrust them through the door. The Danger Room with its extra protections aside, he had no expectation that this form of egress would be denied him and he was correct. Steel door or not, his adamantium claws cut through it easily enough and he carved out himself a decent sized circle to enter through.

The room was huge and dark, only dimly lit from a small lamp on the desk. Wolverine smelled Honey first which instantly made him growl. It had confirmed his worst fears. The blood and sweat came next. Agony has a certain tang to it, as if he could just smell the screams right in the air though they no longer echoed. Some great evil had been committed here and it was now up to him to sort it out.

Even though he had no idea of just what exactly he had walked into, he reached for his radio again, better safe than sorry. "This Logan calling all services. I need an EMT and emergency medical crew down on C level, Room 205, stat."

"Received," came the quick reply from the Security watch desk.

"Star?" he called out cautiously into the large empty room, his eyes roaming all over the place, looking for potential threats before going in any deeper. The room was mostly vacant besides the desk and chair but he could just make out a large lump on the floor, too large to be just one person. It wasn't shaped just right and he couldn't quite make out who it was. It couldn't be Star by herself -- he could hear a single, irregular heartbeat in there and a shallow thready breathing.

The only reply to Logan's question was a soft whimper of fear. That was most definitely Star and the large mass on the floor began to move as she struggled to free herself. Logan moved quickly then and went over to her. She was naked and filthy, her clothes in shredded rags around her ankles. She jerked away from him in fear and he let her, not wanting to box her in. "Easy, girl," he soothed. "It's me, Logan."

Star cried out again and then she was suddenly there, scrambling into his arms and almost rocking him back as she slammed into him. She straddled him like a young child, so small and fragile there. As she crashed into him, an empathic wave of emotion nearly overpowered him, taking away his breath. She was terrified, hurt and terribly, terribly afraid. The wave was powerful, real and as good as scent for informing him that this was not being faked. It was genuine raw emotion and he had to squeeze his eyes against rising tears as his arms folded around her, offering her unspoken protection in response to her unbridled distress.

His arms automatically closed around her, not even registering at first that she was naked and what this might look like. His only concern was for her. She was shivering hard and cold and clammy to the touch, side effects of being very low on power. Once the empathic waved dissipated, another wave of sensory information swirled around him. She was doused in this man's stink, the one who lay beside her. His blood and yes, his semen covered her like a sick, monstrous slime, awakening Logan's rage. Loose feathers were plastered to her body, like she'd been run over by a flock of birds. She had been ill used indeed.

Star couldn't even speak, she just kept making these poor, sad mewling cries of woe and anguish, sounds far more painful for him to hear than if she had spoken her pain aloud with real words.

Wolverine could see it now in his head, how this all had played out. Warren had brought her down here so he could use the Honey in private and Logan had an idea she hadn't exactly volunteered to help him, not for this last bit anyhow. She was a mess and the thought of how Warren had mistreated her was maddening.

"Yer gonna be okay," he promised her with genuine emotion, still holding her tight. This was so very hard. He was in no position now to defend his earlier argument that these man made Siskans could not feel, that they were not the least bit real. She trembled there in his grasp, every bit as alive as one of his own daughters. "He ain't gonna hurt you no more."

Star didn't reply with words but sobbed gratefully against him, holding him painfully tight with her enhanced strength, bruising him in her hysteria without realizing it.

Logan squirmed, getting his jacket off, and put it around her to cover her. She allowed it but still wouldn't let him go. She was still so terribly frightened.

Logan looked up and growled defensively when he saw someone block the light from the hole he had made in the door. He saw Max's familiar silhouette there and relaxed with relief. He rose awkwardly to his feet, bringing Star up with him in his arms.

"You in here, boss?" Max asked into the darkness, his eyes blinking in the dim. "Gah! What's that smell?"

"Blood and Honey," Logan replied tersely, still pissed off that he hadn't seen this coming in time to prevent it. "I got Star here and she's hurt."

Logan carried the tiny girl over to Max and handed her over. "EMT's are on their way down. Wait with her here."

Star whimpered in protest as she was separated from her rescuer. She had associated Logan with strength and didn't know Max that well. She was aware that Max disliked her in some way, she had seen him looking at her in the past, that strange light in his eyes. She didn't want to go with someone she didn't quite trust.

Logan palmed her cheek and spoke to her the same as he would any other poor frightened human child. "It'll be all right, darlin'. I gotta stay here and take care of the rat bastard that did this to you 'cause there ain't no circumstances – _**ever **_– that makes this okay. I'm gonna make sure he stays put and far far away from you, all right?"

Star nodded, placated more by his leaking emotions than the actual words he had spoken. He had meant what he had said and it comforted her. The unspoken part – that her being Siskan and a healer could never justify what had been done to her – meant the most. She was not unaware of his unease with her kind and she could see that some of that had now shifted away in her favor.

Max took her readily enough but he was wary, unsure what had brought out this side of Logan he had rarely seen. Logan was almost never this nice to the Siskans, no matter how screwed up they were. Max was also eyeballing the remaining figure on the floor with well trained caution. "Who's that?"

"Not sure. Might be Warren, but if it is, something's happened to him. Something bad."

"Is he alive?"

Logan squinted at the note of concern there. Max and Warren had a lot in common – they were both blonde and winged. They were often mistaken as being related but it wasn't the case at all. Max was the real powerhouse of the pair, having his teke to assist his winged ability to fly. He could do more faster and he was moving quickly up the ranks.

Logan growled his answer, "He's breathin', that's all I know right now. If he's lucky, he won't make it 'cause he ain't gonna like what I'm gonna do to him if he pulls through."

Max shivered with real fear. Logan wasn't one to fool around and this was no empty threat. He watched as Logan turned and reentered the room, not quite sure what his quick tempered boss was going to do.

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A couple of levels above Logan, Remy chased after his fleeing son, not having a clue as to what he should say. He was furious, his own temper barely in check. Yeah, he had anticipated that Julien might not approve of Kimble and Aiden's lifestyle, but to have been so cruel as to accuse Kimble of intending him harm was inexcusable. Remy knew Kimble better than anyone, there was no way gentle Kimble would ever have done anything untoward with the boy. Now here was yet another mess he would have to clean up. How much more harm could Kimble suffer without breaking? He was cracking a bit already with Zander popping out again at will. Hell, Julien was lucky the Punisher didn't come out and crisp fry his ass with that sword of his for daring to insult Kimble like that. Small blessings indeed.

A familiar door slamming up ahead told Remy all he needed to know. Julien had gone through the first Solarium door he could find like a rabbit going back to its den. This level wasn't that deep underground and so wasn't the one with the sanctuary. Where would Julien go?

Each level of the Solarium was different, growing bigger the deeper you went into the Complex. This first level was less park like and mostly rocks and hiking paths with just enough grass here and there for picnics, the walls perfect for beginner and amateur rock climbing. It did have several large pools, one with a wonderful cascading waterfall about twenty feet high.

There was a blur up ahead in the grass and Remy just caught sight of the lad slipping through a turn in the rocks. There was a loud splash and Remy knew the boy had gone right on in into one of the pools near the waterfall. He wasn't afraid the kid would drown, the water here was never deep for that reason.

He found Julien mid thigh deep in the water, nearly under the large waterfall itself. Julien had stripped off his grey hoodie and his shirt and was using the shirt as a washrag, scrubbing the skin on his chest nearly raw. He was swaying, muttering garbled prayers or curses. Remy couldn't be certain.

There was much Gambit didn't know about his son. Frost had been a master at theatrics and was a user of props. Water was one of his favorites and Julien had responded just as well as Frost as hoped. Under the man's spell, Julien had begged for repeated baptisms as he had struggled with finding his place in the camps. Like the sanctuary, water had become a place of safety and comfort to the boy. It made him feel clean, pure – or as pure as a sinful mutant could ever be. As soon as Julien had seen the waterfall he had run for it, going home.

Remy sighed with impatience at the sight of his son in the water, it looked like he was going to get wet. He dared to wade into the pool, coming closer. Two days of good food had done little to fill out the boy's emaciated frame no matter how good the intentions. Silver scars crisscrossed the boy's back and Remy recognized them for what they were -- he'd been beaten with a belt at some point in his short but turbulent life. He was bruised about the shoulders, signs of Logan's rough handling when he'd been taken aboard the Dragon 2. It halted Remy's anger, made him switch gears. The child was disturbed -- not gleefully so -- but because someone had done this to him. Remy's anger was best directed at the cause, not at the victim himself. He would have to be careful and patient.

The boy was muttering as he scrubbed and scrubbed, saying, "It wasn't my fault... it wasn't my fault..."

"What wasn't yo' fault?" Remy asked in a hushed and cautious whisper.

The boy wouldn't look at him. "It's wrong what they did. It wasn't my fault. It's a sin and they deserved to be punished."

"Who deserves to be punished?"

Julien's eyes met his, not quite sane. "It's a sin for a man to lie with another man!"

"Say some, but not everyone."

"It's in the Book. It's a sin. They have to be punished!" Julien insisted, indignant.

Remy sighed, wanting a cigarette so badly then he could have killed for it. He reached for a stick of gum instead and slid it into his mouth, trying to plan his next words very carefully. "Sometimes a person do what we don' approve of, but you got to remember one t'ing – de final judgement belong to God, not us. Sometime you jus' gotta live and let live."

"That's not true!" Julien snarled, spitting a bit in his anger. "They have done the worst of sins! They have to be punished! They have to die!"

Remy's eyes widened a bit at his son's idea of a fit sentence, but he remained calm for the moment, chewing thoughtfully even as his indignation grew. He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice as he said, "Mais, right. Right. Deir love, it so much worse dan stealin' a child, poisoning dem, stealin' away deir right to have dey own kids, forcin' dem to work 'til dey drop and when dey pass, just buryin' dem in a field like so much trash. You read dat in de Book, too?"

"Frost wasn't wrong!" Julien snarled defensively, his eyes blazing.

"Really?" Remy questioned with a short laugh, unfazed by the boy's outburst. "So tell me, fils? When exactly did Kim make dis 'pass' at you? Tell me just when he make you t'ink even fo' just one minute dat 'e might 'urt you dat way?"

Julien trembled where he stood, his shine a kaleidoscope of swirling colors. He had no good answer for Remy's quick question. Kimble had been nothing but kind and Aiden had been right there when he had needed it. They had fed him, cared for him, made him feel safe and yet they were.. ..they were... THAT. He shuddered in revulsion. Of course if Frost was wrong about them then he was wrong about... well.. Julien closed his eyes and stepped back, not wanting to think about that. What he had seen so long ago had been so awful.

Remy watched this. He wasn't as perceptive as Asher but he was learning fast. "What you see dere, fils? Eh? What just cross yo' mind?"

Julien shivered and panted, dripping with sweat, water and frustration, the memories coming fast and hard. They couldn't both be right, Frost and this man who was his real father. Julien was torn between an act of hate and an act of love, both supposedly justified, yet they did not even remotely agree.

Remy took another step forward, still determined to press Kimble's case. "So long as you cuze' m' Kimble fo' sumpt'in we bot' know damn well he ain't never done you can at least tell me why!"

"I don't want to talk about that," Julien replied, resuming his furious scrubbing, as if that could erase the last few minutes.

Remy spread his arms in invitation, tilting his head as a challenge. His eyes were hard, fatherly, as he said, "You de one brung it up. You can't just point yo' finger an' run, fils. Life don' work dat way and m' Kimble deserve better."

Julien looked up at him and groaned loudly, angrily, between his tightly clenched teeth. This was too hard, too much, but here he was, thigh deep in water, the one who had started this. Could he really speak of it? Of what he had seen? He looked around him then, at the rocks and the water. There were no cameras here.

"What you say, stay between you an me," Remy offered, having questioned enough shady people to understand what Julien was doing. "We'll work it out whatever it is, fils."

"I saw... I saw....." Julien started but then hesitated.

"Saw what? Spit it out, boy. Say it fo' m' Kimble."

"Frost said it was bad what they did, those boys. And he punished them for it."

"Which boys was dat?"

Julien didn't immediately answer, but after a moment he began to tell his tale. He hadn't been at Toranado long when it had happened, this thing he had seen that he did not fully understand.

The barracks of enslaved kids had always been segregated by gender, Frost wasn't about to give the kids any chance to fool around. Plus he wanted free access to the girls for his own men without any trouble. This meant the boys were all housed together for better or for worse.

Like most prison situations, the kids naturally fell into gangs determined by their size and color and by what mutations might give them an advantage. The stronger gangs preyed on the weak, they became the bullies just as Frost was bullying them.

Julien had escaped the worst of the abuse simply by becoming Frost's lackey. Before that had happened though, they had smelled his weakness right from the start and didn't take long to single him out. It had been late at night when they had finally come for him. They came at him while he was in bed asleep. They beat him with bars of soap wrapped in pillowcases, mightily entertained by his screams of pain. The guards outside did not come to his rescue – as long as no one was breaking out, they could care less what went on inside.

Frost was different, though. He had been expressing an interest in Julien, asking him questions and testing how responsive he was to the Word. He could see that Julien was listening, one of the few here who did. When Frost had seen that Julien was beaten, he removed Julien from the barracks and placed him in safer housing.

Once he had the boy isolated from the heathen, Frost taught Julien to read when he saw the interest. He had hoped that perhaps the boy would be effective in converting the others. If he could sway Julien, maybe Julien could next sway the rest. Frost was wrong. The kids hated Julien all the more instead, seeing him as a traitor. The fact that they had beaten the snot out of him hadn't registered with them, he had simply sold out as far as they were concerned.

Julien thrived in his new environment under Frost's care. His improved reading skills earned him the position as Frost's assistant. He also gained other special privileges – better food, a nice bed all to himself and of course, the boss' protection. He was no longer beaten or openly teased by the other kids, even as he took his turn in the flower fields. Julien felt like he belonged somewhere for the first time in his life and that new born confidence made it easy to overlook some of the more disturbing aspects of camp life. He knew about the graveyard of course, but it had been compartmentalized, put aside into a dark corner in his mind. He did as he was told and Frost gave him more and more chores and more attention, something this love starved boy drank up like wine.

Now that Julien was out of reach, the gang of boys moved on to more easier targets. They found one in young Peter, a rough skinned, frail young man who was prone to injury. He was also quite fair of face and more than a little effeminate. Poor Peter suffered the fate Julien probably only narrowly avoided. They came on him one quiet night just as they had with Julien and they had their fun, doing far more than simply beating him with soap.

The next morning when Frost began his first rounds of the day, he found young Peter stripped of his clothes, just standing naked in the front yard of his cabin, blood dripping down his legs, so terribly defiled. His eyes were glazed over and his body bore the bruises of every hand that had held him down. His skin was wet with the morning damp, he'd been standing there for some time in his daze. He hadn't dared to return inside.

Julien stood next to Frost as his assistant, and was shocked silent. He did not fully understand what had been done to the lad, only that it had been something awful.

Frost approached Peter and asked, "Who did this to you, son?"

Peter's eyes stared sightlessly forward. "Tom and Steve," he named numbly, still swaying ever so slightly in the breeze like a weakened sapling. "I don't remember who else..."

Julien didn't know if Peter's testimony could be trusted, he was in such a state, but he knew the boys well and hadn't been all that surprised. They were two of the boys that had beaten him with the bars of soap, egging the others on.

Frost blew the whistle he kept around his neck and mustered the boys, calling them from out of the barracks. They came, sleepy and tousled, some rubbing their eyes. It was early, they should have had another half hour of sleep. When they saw Peter they grew wary, some even stepping away from Tom and Steve, having an idea who might just get the axe for this.

Frost inspected the boys, walking amongst them as they formed their half hearted rows. He grabbed Steve and Tom by an ear each and dragged them to the front where Peter still stood. Peter was unafraid to have them so close, his glassy eyes had wandered up to the pale grey sky as if seeking rescue from above. He seemed unaware of the commotion he had caused.

Frost was in control of the boys he had selected. They weren't fighting him too vigorously yet. The early muster had alerted some of the armed guards and they were coming closer in case their boss might need them. There would be no escape.

Having a captive audience now, Frost began to preach. "It is an abomination for a man to lie with another man as a woman, we have spoken of this before."

It was true. Frost had given many sermons on the rules and conduct of the camp and life in general. Most of it was over the top and just too full of doom and gloom for the captives to take it all that seriously. They should have, because Frost was about to show them what true enforcement consisted of.

"Homosexuals are predators," Frost continued. "They prey on young boys and spread their sin like a disease. Most of you suffer from sin already, just look at how many of you already bear the mark of it. But to add this vile form of fornication to the list..? Well, that is unforgivable."

Steve and Tom got the gist of that right quick and began to break free from Frost who still held them. Frost was unconcerned, his men had come close enough to detain them and they didn't get more than a couple of steps away. The kids were held in place as a more ominous man came forward – Gus.

Julien had been aware of Gus for some time now. Gus wasn't like the others, he had been already stranded and living here at Toranado when Jason Frost had discovered it. Frost may have intimidated Julien, but Gus outright frightened him. There was a coldness to the man that simply whispered "danger" in the loudest voice possible. This man was a killer, one who enjoyed it.

"There are two kinds of sinners here - one that asks for it and one that readily complies. Both are not wanted here," Frost said to the group. He nodded at Gus, "Removed the defiled, the one who asked for it."

Gus went to Peter who still stood in his broken minded daze. Julien had thought to protest, to ask in just what way Peter had asked for what was done to him, but the words failed him. Peter was weak, he had been girly, there had been talk that he might be gay even before Julien had been removed from the barracks. Frost was wise, he must know what he was doing.

Gus embraced the small boy from behind as if to hug him and with one swift movement, snapped the boy's neck with enough force that his head now faced backwards. It was quick and clean, almost a mercy as Peter didn't even fight it. One moment he was standing, the next he was slumped and falling. Gus followed him down, kneeling and looking deeply into Peter's eyes as his life sputtered and went out, the sacrificial lamb to Frost's unyielding sense of propriety.

Tom and Steve renewed their struggles more vigorously at the sight of what Gus had done. They had finally realized the extent of their peril but now it was too late. They had nowhere to run to.

Frost turned his heated gaze upon them. "His sin was but a passive one, but you – yours was that much the worse for you sought him out like the rutting, piggy little faggots that you are! You are that sin in full bloom, seeking out the weaker to vent out your disgusting lust filled, little perverted fantasies on! Did you make him suck it before you shoved it in his tight little ass?"

Steve screamed in terror he couldn't help it. Most bullies are in fact cowards themselves and this was far too much for him to bear. He thrashed and flailed, but was unable to free himself even as Gus came to him next. It wasn't going to be quick and easy like the ticket poor little Peter had bought. No, Gus drew out a large hunting knife as he strode right on over and he plunged it deep into the young man's belly, ripping up violently and then to the side, all the better to disembowel his prey.

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Back in the Solarium, Remy raised his hands in surrender. "D'accorde, fils. I get de point." He wasn't sure how much more he wanted to hear.

"Do you?" Julien challenged sharply. "Frost wasn't wrong. Those two boys did this rotten thing to Peter. He asked for it, I know it, and yet look what happened to all of them? They all paid! Homosexuality is a sin!"

"Non!" Remy snapped, raising a finger in emphasis. "Rape is a sin. Takin' by force is a sin and dat's what dem boys did to Peter, who I seriously doubt even asked fo' it at all, certainly not like dat! But to share sumptin' in love between two consentin' adults ain't even close to de same t'ing. You seen Kimble and Aiden together. You honestly t'ink dey beat each other down like a coupla wild beasts? Use yo' brain, fils!"

Julien shrank back, lowering his eyes. It was true he could hardly imagine Kimble and Aiden abusing each other as those boys had done to Peter. Even as he had walked in on the Siskans, they hadn't been struggling with one another or causing each other any pain. Aiden had been touching Kimble so gently, like Julien would have wanted to touch Kiden himself. Still, Julien couldn't reconcile the two things - the Siskans' love for one another and what had occurred at the Toranado camp.

"Frost wasn't wrong," Julien repeated, though with a lot less conviction than before.

"What make you so sure?"

Julien burst into tears, he couldn't help it. This was much too painful and his head hurt beyond a simple headache. He pressed a hand into one of his eyes and said, "Because... because Frost doesn't murder people!"

Remy smiled, knowing that he'd finally won. Here it was, the truth that poor young Julien couldn't possibly avoid. "Well, now you come to it, fils. You got dis idea dat Frost got it all figured out, dat he never do one t'ing wrong, but it ain't true. He told you what you needed to 'ear so he'd get you to do what he want – and I can prove it.

"You say you know de Bible so good, eh? You tell me one time – one time! - Jesus ever say it was okay to kill anyone gay? Even better – you tell me one time Jesus ever say it was okay to kill anyone at all!"

Julien shuddered and began to sob now. "But Frost said --"

"Said what? You give me de passage, eh?"

Julien glared at him, still hitching. "That's not fair. We can't read the Book!'

Remy arched an eyebrow at that and then laughed. "Really? Wow, you mo' gullible dan I t'ought. You sayin' Frost teach you all dis crap and you just took 'is word fo' it without lookin' it up yo'self? Dat's rich. Dat's proof alone of just 'ow much dat bastard fuck wit you.

"You know who Frost really was? He wasn't nuthin' more dan a used car salesman sellin' de Old Testament bus of 'atred an' intolerance. All Frost was interested in was makin' a bunch a money off of people's fears and keepin' little boys cowed just like he done to you. Since when does a person bein' different make dem disposable? T'ink about it. He used you, fils, plain and simple!"

"Liar!" Julien snarled, still trying in vain to cling to those things that had held him together for so long. That ground was now shifting sand, threatening to sink him down deep.

"Uh, huh. Right. I got a Bible right nex' to my bed. You really wanna challenge dis? We can go right now and pop dat baby open, go verse fo' verse if you like. You goan see dere a whole lotta crap missin', specifically all dis bullshit Frost been shovin' down yo' t'roat wit' you hardly puttin' up much of a fight. We'll see who's right den, eh?"

"Unclean!" Julien howled. "Mutants should never touch the Book! We are not worthy!"

Remy snorted, not backing down an inch now that he had the higher ground. "Who tell you dat? Frost again? You hypocrite! You stand 'ere 'cuzin' m' boys of blasphemy and tellin' us mutants we all unclean when you ain't never read de Book fo' y'self. Seems to me dat it a real convenient way fo' Frost to keep you from knowin' de whole trut'. Tell you what? Ash would be 'appy to give you a whole stack of Bibles any time you like, fils. You can come down to de Church wit' me any Sunday you like. Get you t'rough de Sacraments any time. Fix dat 'ead of yours just fine!"

"You lie! It's a sin for mutants to enter a real church!"

"Since when?" Remy scoffed, disgusted by all of Frost's hypocrisy. "I was raised Catholic from de day I was old enough to read m' firs' words."

"Idolater!" Julien spat with renewed vehemence, as though Remy had just supplied him with some new excuse to dismiss his words.

"Excuse me?" Remy asked with genuine surprise. He simply could not fathom where this boy was coming from.

"You worship the crucifix! You think a stupid piece of bread is Jesus!"

Remy just shook his head with a sad smile. He never thought he would ever have to give an apology for his faith like this, but the boy was just too confused. Frost had done his job well. "We don' worship de crucifix, it just a symbol of what Christ done fo' us. What He done fo' you. De host just what it is, Communion between us and God. It's us takin' a little bit of God inside ourselves, makin' us better. But you still didn't answer m' question, fils. Where did Jesus say it was okay to do what Frost done to the boys like dat? And if not de boys, what about de girls, eh? It ain't right and if you got even half a heart you know it, too."

The boy just shook his head. "Frost told me enough! Girls are the root of all evil!" he spat, unable to keep the acid out of his voice just as Frost had taught him to. "Just like Eve, all sin comes from them!"

Remy saw right through it all. Julien was clinging so hard to his past, he just didn't want to let it go even as the thief was tearing it apart like tissue paper. "Yo' momma wasn't evil. She love you."

"Yes she was!" Julien spat, scrubbing his skin all the harder as though trying to wash his own DNA from his skin. Still, Remy could already see the boy's faith wavering. His love for his mother was still there, it was just buried deep.

Remy just shook his head with an ironic smile. "Now you don' believe dat any more dan you do about Kiden. If dat was true, fils, you wouldn't 'ave took Kiden apart fo' y'self. You woulda let 'er whore fo' Frost's boys wit' de res' of de girls."

Julien looked at him in fury, obviously upset and distressed that he was running out of excuses. He fell back on what he knew. "You're all unclean! This whole place is full of sinners and freaks! You - you contaminate me with your lies and blasphemy!"

Remy sloshed over to the boy and took his hands before he rubbed himself raw. He was already bleeding in some areas from being so rough. Being in private like this, Remy dared to use his empathy and sent out a wave of calming Kundatesh, hoping that the boy would feel the sincerity of it. "I can see in yo' shine what you believe and what you don'. You love yo' momma, she done de bes' she could fo' you even if it wasn't always right. You love Kiden real deep even though she don' love you back. You also know dat you been lied to. De bes' lie is one wit' a little trut' mixed in, dat's why Frost made it all so easy fo' you. You gotta let 'im go, fils.

"I know you hate what you are. Dat ain't nuthin' new around here. You just gotta have some kinda fait' dat God knows what He's doin'. He made you a mutant because it was right and good for what His big plan is, whatever it may be. You got a home now wit' us and maybe if you let us, we can 'elp you figure out just what dat plan is, eh? We can do dat together."

Julien sagged against him, wet and exhausted from everything. He had felt Remy's power wrap around him as tangibly as the arms that held him. It reminded him of his mother and of everything he had loved and lost and it hurt him more than he could say. It took the last of his strength and his will to fight. He had been abandoned and abused by everyone he'd ever come across. Who could he possibly trust? He had nothing left. "Just kill me or lock me away! I don't think I can do this anymore..."

Remy held him, knowing all of this just by the boy's shine, and gently brushed wet hair from the boy's eyes. Julien was all bones and shivers now, his heart breaking. He wasn't struggling against Remy's attentions but protested weakly, "I can't take this any more! Everything I say, you keep telling me is wrong! I don't even know what's real anymore..."

Remy just laughed softly. "I know it hurt sometime, seein' de trut' wit' yo' eyes wide open fo' de first time. But you gotta accept de fact dat if Frost was capable of cold blooded murder, dat a little lyin' 'ere and dere wasn't much of a stretch fo' de guy, eh? Not if it could get you and de other kids to do what he want."

"He loved me!" Julien cried, still unwilling to fully believe. "I know he did!"

"Mebbe in 'is way, 'e did jus' a little," Remy was grudgingly willing to concede. "But you gotta ask yo'self, was it in a good way? In a real way? You wanna know what's real for true? Dis is." And then Remy gave him a nice good squeeze. "You my son and I'm gonna love you whether you want me to or not. Dat's real. You ain't never goan hafta pay me no pound of flesh neither to earn it – no starvin' yo'self, no straps wit barbs, no hatin' anybody else, none of dat crap. Kimble love you, too. Him and Aiden bot'. Dat's real. 'Dey would never hurt you, you gotta b'lieve dat."

"I'm so sorry...." Julien gasped, tears pouring down his cheeks now. He was barely standing, emotionally undone. He knew the words were true even as Remy spoke them.

"I ain't de one you need to be sayin' dat to," Remy said, holding him up and gently walking him to the water's edge. Remy was still stiff and sore and this wasn't helping but he wasn't going to let the boy go, not until they found a place to sit.

They sat there, the boy shivering while Remy removed his long coat and draped the dry parts over the lad's shoulders. He was continuing to instruct, saying, "M' gonna teach you sumpt'in, a lesson fo' life, fo' always. When someone tell you sumpt'in in anger or 'atred, don't ever trust it, 'specially when it about sumpt'in you know nuthin' about. Lots of folks out dere say all us muties're bad. Now we know ourselves enough to know dat while some of us do try to 'urt people, de vast majority of us are kind and just want to live our lives in peace. Some of us are even heroes, folks who go outta deir way to 'elp others. You still t'ink all muties are bad, hein?"

Julien shook his head quickly, already seeing where this was going.

Remy continued, "Now dere may be some gay men out dere dat done some bad t'ings, but dat's only just a very tiny few. Mos' gay folks, you wouldn't even know it dey was gay. Dey learn to hide deir love away 'cause of all dis misdirected anger towards dem, just like a lot of us muties gotta hide, too. You t'ink dat's fair?"

"No."

"Now you seein' what I mean? Now you startin' to t'ink a bit more like a real Christian oughta. We all just people just tryin' to get by. You, me, Kim and 'is Dreamer. You gotta judge each person on deir merits, not just from what someone else say, comprenez?"

Julien nodded again, but he was still so very tired. This was all making sense now but still a lot for him to take in all at once. Remy could see this and knew he had precious little time left. He still had one more lesson to teach. "Now dat you got dis better understandin', 'm gonna teach you one more t'ing 'bout Kimble and Aiden. I just needed you make peace with de other bit first before I tell you dis, because of what I just said still stands, d'accorde?"

"Tell me what?"

Remy just smiled a little. "Kim and Aiden, dey ain't like you an' me. Dey machines of a sort dat someone made, only dey come alive for real."

Julien snorted in disbelief and pulled away. He didn't like being toyed with. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Nope. Not even a little bit. See my boys got two strikes against dem – dey love each other like nuthin' else and at de same time, lots of folks here don't even consider dem alive."

"No machine can be real like that."

Remy laughed again, hearing this for the umpteeth time. "Well you lived in a pocket world. Dat alone should tell you dat dere's lots of places wit t'ings an' people in dem dat most folks here never heard of. You got flown here in a ship dat you know no regular plane maker make. Let's just say dat us Xs have a way of gettin' around to some real strange places. One of dem places was called Siska and a long time ago, dey made fake people to be deir servants. One day dem servants got smart and dat's what happened to m' boys. We call dem Siskans now after de race of people dat made dem."

"That sounds impossible."

"Does it? Makes perfect sense to me. Somebody first had a job dat needed doin' so dey make a machine dat move dis to dere." Remy gestured with his hands to make his point, showing a robot picking up something and setting it down. "De next guy make it faster. De next guy after dat make it smarter. De guy after him make it look a person to make it easier to use. Fella after 'im give it emotion, to make it act human, not jus' look like one, comprenez? You see where dis is goin'?"

Julien nodded, getting that easily enough.

"Den one day, de machine actually do get faster. It do get smarter for real. It actually become _**alive.**_ Sentient, like you and me. Now it livin' out 'ere wit us, and we jus', well....some of us still see de machine when it ain't really no machine no more. Dat's one problem. De other problem is dat people judge Kimble and Aiden like dey was men when dey really ain't. Dey still dat machine inside and lemmie ask you – is a machine a boy or a girl?"

Julien just squinted, blinking at him. "What?"

"It's a simple question, fils. Is a machine a boy or a girl?"

"It's neither."

"Exactly."

Again, Julien just squinted at him. "Okay, now you lost me."

"M' boys are boys only cuz someone made dem look dat way, not because dey was born dat way, or because dey boys in deir minds. Deir outside a skin dat can be changed to look different ways, but inside dey feel de same all de time. Now you get it?"

"Oh? Oh! Oh.....Oh, okay. I get it. Sort of...." Julien squinted. "They aren't really gay because they aren't alive like us."

"Dat is true, but I needed you to understand about gay people first cause like I said, dat lesson still stand, get me? Nobody gay ever gonna hurt you. Neither will any of de Siskans livin' 'ere."

Julien nodded, trying to process it all. "Wait. Asher said he and Kimble were from the same place. Does that mean he isn't real either?"

Again, Remy laughed. "Depends on yo' definition of real. Dey ain't got no flesh or blood, dey can't make babies of demselves, but dey hearts and souls are real enough. De bes' way to judge a man is by what he feel and what he do. And dey do feel plenty."

Julien bowed his head, his heart sinking just a little. Yeah, he knew Kimble could feel alright. In his mind he replayed their last encounter and he fast forwarded over what Kimble and Aiden been dong to the part where Kimble had looked so devastated at what he had said to him. How Kimble had looked so hurt and betrayed. The thought of it made his chest hurt a little. "I have to apologize to Kimble."

Remy was glad to hear it. He was also glad to see the colors changing in Julien's shine. He was letting go of that destructive anger. He was smoothing out, becoming much closer to normal, a welcome change. There was hope for the boy yet. "Oui, you do. De sooner de better, fils, so we can all put dis behind us. Kimble got a real big heart, I know he will forgive you if you mean it."

Julien nodded and they rose, the boy moving just as stiffly as his father. Gambit didn't miss it. "Let's go back to m' place, get you all dried off. Mebbe you sleep a bit, den we'll go see Kimble, oui?"

Julien nodded, feeling exhausted down to his very bones. Remy walked him back to his apartment and lay the boy down on his own bed, not surprised when the kid was out after just a couple of minutes. The moment he knew the lad was asleep he gave Asher a quick call, satisfied when he learned that Kimble had been taken care of as well. After the boy had his nap, he would bring him to see Kimble and they could put all this behind them, once and for all.


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Logan walked back into the large room he had removed Star from, taking his time as he went back over to the figure that was still sprawled out on the floor next to the desk. He had to give Warren this - for a man who had forcefully and repeatedly had his way with poor Star, he didn't look like the figure of contentment. His breathing was ragged and shallow, like a man still in great pain.

If Logan hadn't already known that the heap of ruined flesh at his feet was Warren Worthington III, he never would have guessed. The man's DNA had been changed by the Honey and so his scent was off as well. The artificial wings that Hank had made for him still lay on the desk, yet this person had a pair of real ones pumped with blood and dribbling loose feathers about. They twitched and trembled with each tortured breath his body took the way the fake ones never had. More than that was the pair of furred animal legs and a long lion's tail that lay behind him, the tufted tip swishing ever so slightly with emotion just as those wings were. Clumps of blonde hair had drifted from the once beautiful head, suggesting the rest might follow. Feathers had sprung from his scalp, disrupting everything. The face was at least similar to what it once was, he had been spared having a beak, though Logan knew enough of the Honey's side effects to know better than to think this transformation was complete.

Logan bent and checked the man's pulse, it was weak but steady, stable. He then opened one eye carefully, unsure if he was just too weak to move, sleeping deeply, or outright unconscious. The body itself didn't immediately react to his intrusion, but the pupil constricted slightly from the light still streaming in from the hole Logan had made in the door. Warren's eyes had once been blue, these were now a golden yellow and rounder - eagle eyes, the eyes of a predator. A low, strangled growl gurgled up from the man's throat as if in protest and one hand jerked, clicking the floor and drawing Logan's eyes that way. Warren's human hands were gone and like his legs, his arms were now furred with clawed fingers.

"As if we didn't have enough mythological critters runnin' around the fuckin' place," Wolverine complained to himself. "Now we got a fuckin' griffin to go with the centaurs."

"You say somethin', boss?" Max asked, blocking the light again as he peeked inside.

"Nuthin' important. Them EMTs get here yet?"

"I can hear 'em coming now. Just another minute."

Logan heard them coming himself as Max had spoken and he looked back at Warren, trying to contain his anger. It frustrated him to no end that the man had thought it was okay to do this to Star, to just force her to help him as though he'd had every right.

"I hope ya get all you deserve," Logan grumbled, flashing a bit of fang. He leaned in close to Warren's ear, and not caring if the man could hear him or not, whispered this solemn promise. "If you think yer gonna get any help from Star beyond what ya already stole you can fergit it, pal. I don't give a flying fuck who you think ya are, or how much fuckin' money you have, you baked this cake and you can eat it all yerself. I hope ya fuckin' choke on it, bub!"

Warren's body shuddered and he growled again, moving a bit. Yeah, he had heard that all right, and it made Logan smile.

The EMTs had come and were now making their way through the hole Logan had made in the door, bringing along their medical kits and equipment. Logan backed off, letting them go to work. He went back to the door's interior control panel and did his best with the interior lock, finally getting the door fully open after a couple of tries with the wiring. They would need the space to get Warren out on a stretcher.

As he worked the door, Logan could see that the medics had covered Star in a blanket and she was hunched against the wall outside, Max standing over her protectively. The EMTs could do nothing for her really, her non-organic body wouldn't require medicines, at least none that they could provide. What she needed was Hank, or Asher at the very least.

At that thought, Logan popped open his phone and gave Asher a quick call. The centaur picked up on the first ring, his voice calm and steady as always. "Good morrow?"

"Ash, this is Logan. I need you to go to Med Lab right away."

"Star. Yes, I knows," Asher replied in that maddening, 'I already know what you want' sort of way. "But at the moment I haves a greater emergency."

"And what could that possibly be?" Wolverine questioned sharply in irritation. He couldn't fathom what could be more pressing. Besides, if Asher had already known Star was in trouble, why wasn't he already on his way?

"There wuz an incident with Kimble. It wuz real bad and though I treated him once already it ain't gonner holds. He needs another treatment and that'll takes some time. I cain't be in two places at once and since I'm here already I'll come down right afters I'm done here, I promise."

Asher's explanation had come unhurried, casual, as if he was reading off a grocery list, and it made Logan's fury grow all the greater. It was no surprise that Kimble needed a treatment, it seemed like he needed one for every little thing. "What happened with Kimble exactly?"

Asher didn't hesitate to answer even as he evaded perfectly, "You'll haves to ask Remy 'bouts that. I kin tells you he'll be fine, don't worry none about it."

Logan wasn't the least bit worried about Remy's precious, childish Kimble, he was angry instead. What did Kimble do now? Stub his toe? It seemed like he was always blubbering over something. Surely it was too soon for Julien to have found out about Kimble and Aiden. "Star needs you now," he insisted. "She's a mess. She's been assaulted."

"I knows, but it's her Master she needs more than me. Wash her up and brings her to him. It'll calms them both."

"Right," Logan growled in sarcastic disagreement and hung up, angry that once again Kimble had taken precedence over something Logan thought was the greater priority. His next call went to Fallen, but it was Seth that picked up. "Good morrow?"

"Seth, this is Logan. Fallen around?"

"She's down here in the Lab with Henry, trying to keep him calm. Please tell me you found Star."

"I did but there's a problem. Warren used Honey on himself and forced Star to fix him. She's a mess, if ya know what I mean. She probably needs to power up. Stay where you are, I'm bringing her up to you guys right now. Tell Henry we're on our way but don't say anything about Star just yet. He'll kill someone trying to get to her."

"I understand. We'll be here."

Logan hung up and bent down to take Star's hand. She accepted and he took her up in his arms again, happy that she didn't weigh as much as a real girl. She was wrapped up in the blanket, warm and cozy in his arms, no longer crying. The elevator ride back to the Lab was quick enough and Logan walked in, not surprised to see the place in disarray.

Seth was there, waiting for him. He faltered at the sight of Star so trashed, but explained quickly, "Hank couldn't wait. He broke out of the back room. He smashed some things up a bit, but Fallen got him corralled enough that he could be sedated. They've moved him back to one of the holding cells."

"Fine. That'll buy us some time. Star needs to be cleaned up before he sees her or he'll go off again."

"I'll take her," Seth offered and Logan was happy enough to hand her over.

Logan signaled to Maylee who was close by, prepared for Warren's immanent arrival with the EMTs. He said to her, "You know Warren's on his way up. Fine. You give him one good lookin' over and then he goes to Security. You can treat him down there, I won't have him here no matter how bad off he is."

"What happened?"

He explained quickly and she nodded, her eyes sad and weary. Everyone here in the Labs knew Star well and no one wanted to see her hurt. She was happy that it was Logan who had dealt with this. She knew his heavy handed methods well enough to know that it would never happen again. She normally felt some sympathy for the ones Logan punished but not today. Not today.

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A couple hours later, Aiden lay across from Kimble on their bed, blinking in the half light. He brushed back soft wisps of ebony hair from Kimble's face, his touch light and gentle. He kept up this tender caress until Kimble's eyes eventually fluttered open. Kimble smiled at him, his eyes dreamy and small. "Hey."

" 'Ey," Aiden replied, his voice scratchy and tired. This had been a troubling episode. Aiden had wanted to keep Kimble stable on his own, to try and avoid having Asher to treat him, but this...? This had been beyond Aiden's ability to control. There was no way Kimble was going to handle yet another accusation of malevolent sexual intention tossed his way without some real help. Asher had to use more Morrowhiem than usual, it had taken Asher two tries to get Kimble calmed, once in the ship and again back here at their apartment. Kimble had been so trashed and after all that, the pilot had been out cold asleep for a good long while. One look at Kimble's glassy eyes said that he would be stoned for a while yet as well. "You feelin' okay?"

Kimble just smiled. He had no exact memory of what had happened, but recognized the sensation of being wonderfully high on Morrowhiem. He knew he'd been treated and true to form didn't ask about the why of it. Why get upset all over again? Better to evade and maintain this wonderful warm feeling for as long as possible. " 'M fine. But you looks a little tired."

Aiden swallowed, feeling a surge of pain he tried to keep at bay. Despite his image of being the tough guy of the pair, he was just as emotionally weak as Kimble at times. He was just better at hiding it, at keeping it under wraps. It didn't stop the depth of his fear of abandonment. His eyes were wet though he did his best to blink away tears that might betray his weakness. "Keemble.... do you sztill love me?"

Kimble squinted at that, confused. It was such an odd question and completely unexpected. He had woken like this before, all warm and fuzzy, but never had he come to to face such a question. "You knows I do."

"Are you.. ashamed... of me zen?"

Kimble's good mood began to fade. "Why wouldja ever thinks so? Cuz I didn' tells Jules we wuz married?"

_Non, becausze when we were caught all you wanted to do wasz run,_ Aiden thought but didn't give voice to it. _You would 'ave denied me if you could 'ave! You were ashamed of our love!_

This was not the first time Aiden had felt this way, but this was the most intense. Even before the baptism that had gone so badly, Aiden recalled another time he'd had to deal with Kimble's fear of judgement. Not long after Jael had been defeated, life at the Complex had tried to return to normal. The few mutants that had survived would retreat to the Clubs as they had before, losing themselves in diversions such as drinking and dancing. The Siskans were not immune, they were in fact drawn to the Clubs and the music. One night the newly wedded Siskans had gone to the Club and saw a small crowd already on the floor, dancing. It was quite late and the humans, drunk on beer and fine music, were dancing to some provocative music that was playing. A couple of pairs were really getting into it, doing sensual bumps and grinds, "dirty dancing."

Aiden and Kimble were quick to follow by example. At first they had faced one another, arms encircling waists, but then Aiden turned, leaning back against his taller lover and letting that pilot's body enfold him. Kimble ground slowly against him, lost in the music and drink, forgetting just how public they were and moaning softly as Aiden slid his hands down his thighs, pushing back into him.

Aiden was the first to notice the bartender watching them. At first the man had said nothing. He just stood there, wiping dry a glass, his eyes gleaming in a strange way. Aiden was used to that. To being watched with an odd sort of appreciative lust when he would dance. A Siskan was a sensual creature even at his worst, and Aiden was no slouch on the dance floor, certainly not when coupled with his magnificent pilot husband who could make some shiver just from walking by. Aiden was shameless, really. He relished being watched and shivered off a vibration of erotic heat in the man's direction, just to see what would happen.

He never found out. Not even a second later, someone leaned in close to the bartender, speaking softly but his eyes jerking in Aiden's direction. Aiden scowled. Of course it had been a complaint, he could see the sudden change in the bartender's shine. It wasn't the dancing, all the couples were grinding so closely, it was the fact that it was two men doing the same.

The bartender frowned, his shine darkening with guilt, like he'd just been caught doing something naughty just by watching them. He gestured to the bouncer and of course the man came just as Aiden had expected. He threatened softly, "Maybe you two faggots should take that shit somewhere else."

Aiden had growled with anger, ready to fight, but Kimble had jerked away from him suddenly like Aiden's very skin would burn him. Aiden stood there, reeling more from Kimble's turbulent vibrations of self disgust, guilt, and loathing then from what the man had said. Aiden would have kicked up a fuss, but Kimble had already bolted, moving swiftly away through the crowd to the exit.

Aiden followed his lover, trying to explain on the way home how they should just stand up for their rights, but it was clear early on that Kimble didn't want to hear it. It was days before Kimble left the apartment and months before Kimble would even venture back to the Club, and then they no longer danced. Aiden had been deeply hurt, but it was more Kimble's cowardice that had done it. Aiden didn't back down from a fight, especially when he thought he was in the right, but his pilot husband was a much different person. Kimble cared too deeply what others thought of him. It mattered to him to fit in. Aiden had learned to let it go in an effort to keep the peace but it still hurt, just as what happened today.

Back in their humble apartment, Kimble frowned to himself, sensing trouble here with his lover though he was too high on Morrowhiem to try and get to the exact thing Aiden was vibrating. "I didn't ever means ta hurts ya. It's just that they don'ts ever understands about us," he tried to explain, still a little off the mark.

Aiden wasn't sure it was worth the fight to argue about it, not with Kimble still so high and emotionally defenseless. It wasn't worth the inevitable phone call to Asher to have Kimble treated yet again after the blowout that was sure to follow. Aiden had accepted long ago how things were, that Kimble would always be shy about what their relationship really was. He just hadn't been prepared for how much it had hurt when that expectation had been put to the test. In spite of his tough outward appearance, Aiden was just as fragile as Kimble and far more insecure. He was hurt.

Kimble wiggled closer and pressed his lips to Aiden's, pulsing off a vibration of desire and wanting, one the Dreamer would never be able to ignore. This, too, was common, Kimble wanting to make love after waking from treatment. It wasn't something Aiden usually fought, but this time he was still too hurt to accept something that tasted of coming off the rebound. He gently pushed Kimble back. "You need reszt."

Kimble hesitated, licking his lips as if trying to taste what was wrong. Aiden hadn't refused him before, something wasn't right. "Did I hurts you?" he asked, his shine swirling with assumed guilt. "Whatever it wuz, I didn't means to."

This Aiden didn't want. As much as he was hurting, it was worse somehow to see that pain reflected in Kimble's eyes. Aiden recognized he was being stupid and self-indulgent, wanting this petty revenge. He let go of his pain with a deep sigh and gave Kimble a tight, forceful squeeze. "You did not 'urt me. I am juszt a leetle tired, eh? I need a charje."

Kimble was still, his fogged out mind trying to work around the obvious lie. He had done something wrong, but had been forgiven. Apparently it wasn't enough for them to argue over it. Kimble accepted this, knowing he was too stoned to really do anything about it at the moment, but made a vow to try and correct this later. He would cook for his beloved, something he knew Aiden would really like. Then later they would drink and play and all would be well again.

"Then let's goes to the Solarium."

Aiden smiled. "All right. Let me 'elp you up."

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True to his word, Remy had Julien up and ready after his quick nap. Remy had an idea that he would find Kimble and Aiden at the Solarium and he was right. He and Julien had no sooner entered the huge underground park when he spotted them – Aiden was walking Kimble along, heading towards the large fish pond. Kimble was walking sloppily, high still on Morrowhiem and dutifully going where Aiden was guiding him, his head tipped forward like a drunk. Aiden walked slowly, moving Kimble along at a safe pace with the well practiced grace of a long time care giver.

If Aiden was concerned he and Kimble were being followed, he gave no sign. He brought Kimble up to the duck pond and once there, sat Kimble down on the paved walkway. He then rolled up the legs of Kimble's pants to his knees before gently dipping Kimble's furry little feet into the water.

Kimble laughed as his feet sank into the cool water of the pond, a loud tinkly sound full of happiness. He tipped his head up towards his lover and they embraced, Kimble refusing to let Aiden go until they had shared a lingering, loving kiss.

Julien shivered with revulsion at the sight of it and swallowed hard, but forced himself to watch this with new eyes. He put aside all the lies he had been told and saw that these two were deeply bonded and still very passionately in love with one another. It could not be mistaken for anything less.

"You see dat?" Remy questioned his son. "You gettin' what I said? Dey would never 'urt each other, you, or no one else, comprenez? What you see dere is true love, more dan you ever see most people ever 'ave."

"I see it," Julien replied honestly. "I have to go talk to them."

"I'll be right 'ere waitin'," Remy promised and let him go.

Meanwhile, Aiden stroked Kimble's hair with his elegant fingers and whispered something soft before retreating to a nearby park bench to smoke. Kimble remained as he was, splashing a little with his feet and laughing. He spread out his wings to the sun, tipping his head back with a huge smile, happy to be where he was and who he was with.

Julien watched this, knowing it was now or never, make the move or forget it. Julien sucked in a breath and came closer. He dared to pass Aiden on his bench but was halted when the small man made a noise. "Tsk. Where you goin', you?"

"I have to talk to Kimble."

Aiden snorted, an ugly, derisive sound. "And what makesz you t'ink m' gonna let you do zat?"

Julien froze, feeling the first tendrils of real fear. Before today, Aiden had always been separate and aloof, but still benign. Julien could look back fondly on Aiden's gentle advice and encouraging presence. That was now gone, replaced with the same hardness Aiden seemed to project to everyone else, or at least those he perceived to be hostile. It was painful to Julien now to find himself lumped into that latter group, his specialness and inclusion in Kimble's inner circle was gone. Julien swallowed his fear and said, "I have to apologize to him."

Aiden shook his head. He toyed with a large platinum ring on his left hand, a beautiful braided work of art that exactly matched the one that Julien had seen on Kimble earlier. Funny how Julien hadn't noticed that they were a matching pair until now. Aiden's voice was hardly friendly as he asked, "Remy szpeak to you?"

Julien nodded.

"What did 'e szay?"

Julien swallowed and gathered some courage. "That Kimble would never hurt me."

"And you believe disz now?" Aiden asked, his voice hard and condescending. "Juszt from wordsz you 'ear? You were szo very szure before, eh?"

Julien nodded, daring to meet those angry pale green eyes.

Aiden shook his head, a vibration of disappointment and aggravation leaving him. Julien should have known this on his own, Julien was many things – misguided, insecure and quick to judge – but stupid wasn't one of them. "Keemble would not 'urt you, leetle one, becausze Keemble doesz not 'urt anyone, undersztand? At leaszt not on purposze. But disz isz not szo true of me."

Julien shivered and broke out in gooseflesh, trying not to bolt as every warning bell inside his head went off. He sensed on many levels the true nature of Aiden's threat, that this was no lie or attempt to intimidate him the way that big people often did when they wanted to teach him some new rule or they were establishing boundaries. Aiden wasn't seeing him as a child or an innocent, Julien was being regarded on an adult level, something so few people had ever done. While flattering, it also meant that he wouldn't be cut any slack.

Aiden was still speaking. "You try make Keemble ashamed of 'imszelf an' 'oo 'e isz. You try make Keemble ashamed of me. Of me! Why should I forgive you for disz?"

"I didn't mean what I said. I was confused," Julien answered, his face red hot with regret and humiliation. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Aiden snorted arrogantly again, his disdain obvious as he took another long, deep drag off of his cigarette. "Yesz. Yesz. An' now you szee de bright white light, eh?" He looked away for a moment, considering before turning back to the boy. "Did Remy tell you everyt'ing, eh? Did 'e szay zat Keemble real fragile? Zat 'e like a child? Zat 'e szo very friendly, szo very much caring? One look at you tellsz me mebbe not. Szee, not long ago, szomeone elsze miszundersztand a geszture of Keeble'sz love juszt like you. Dey szay szumptin' juszt asz stupid an' miszguided asz what you szay."

Julien swallowed when Aiden paused. The Dreamer wasn't going to cut him a break, the Siskan was going to make him ask. "What did they say?"

Aiden's face darkened, growing impossibly meaner. Julien hadn't thought the man couldn't look any more vicious, but there it was, Aiden's desire to punish anyone responsible for Kimble's pain. "Zey szay Keemble try to moleszt szomeone. Szomeone 'e love very much. Keemble... 'e did not take it well. 'E break in 'isz mind an' 'ide himszelf away, no szpeak to no one for a long time, not even to me.

" 'E did recover, my Keemble, but not before I 'ad to liszten to 'isz broken 'eart, 'ear isz szoul bleed. Long time it take, before my Keemble return to me. Even now, 'e not asz 'e wasz before. 'E isz wit me, but a leetle szmaller on ze inszide each time 'e come back from szumpt'in' szomeone szay bad to 'im. Disz 'urtsz me in waysz you could not posszibly undersztand. Way I szee it, you no better dan zem, ze one'sz 'oo 'urt 'im szo badly. Tell me why should I let you near 'im ever again, you fucking leetle **Chuckfet** piecze of shit?"

Julien gasped, frightened even further by these bitter words, hearing the genuine threat. He didn't understand the insult, the word Aiden had used, but there was no mistaking the intention. Or the danger. This man may have been small, but his pale green eyes glittered with genuine malice. Malice laced with no small amount of defensive hurt and the deepest love for Kimble.

Armed with the information he now had, reading Aiden was easier than Julien could ever have imagined. All this time, Julien had assumed that Kimble was the one in charge of his own affairs, he had been the boldest of the pair, the most outspoken and the first one to reach out to him. Looking back with his newly opened eyes, Julien could see that wasn't entirely accurate. Kimble had been the most forthcoming to be sure, but Aiden was always there in the background, protectively watching his charge and keeping him safe in all the things he did.

Aiden was in love with Kimble, married to him, yet lived in a world that was constantly hostile to the pair. While Kimble tried to hide from it, Aiden took it head on, confronting it without fear and pushing back as hard as it pushed him. He protected himself and Kimble by this shield of dangerousness, a way of keeping the rest of the world at bay. Aiden resented the need for this deeply and could hardly contain the pain it brought him, certainly not in the face of a direct attack as he perceived Julien's hateful words to have been.

"You love him," Julien whispered softly.

"Wit' all my 'eart," Aiden replied, looking at him deeply. "Can a pathetic leetle **Chuckfet** child szuch asz you undersztand szo deep a t'ing, neh? Heh, a virgin no less? I t'ink mebbe not. Disz make it easzier for you tiny leetle mind?"

Julien jumped back when he saw this man suddenly change. His features seemed to melt away and reshape themselves until he was looking into the face of one of the most beautiful dark haired women he had ever seen. Aiden's bright floral shirt had been wide open before this and now this gorgeous woman was half naked before him, enough to take Julien's breath away. In spite of the skin change, Aiden's clothes and the piercing gaze of her eyes remained the same. "Undersztand now, you?"

Julien nodded, his eyes wide. Remy had tried to explain some of this, that these two were actually genderless and not even close to human, but it was quite another thing to see it presented right up close. "The dress was yours."

Aiden waved her hand in dismissal. "Non, it was my sziszter'sz like I szay, I jusz' borrow it from time to time. Not zat I should even 'ave to explain szuch t'ingsz to anyone, leaszt of all you." Aiden made that ugly snorting sound again and shifted back into his male skin with a toss of his head. "I will not szee 'im break again. Not by you, not by anyone elsze!"

"I won't hurt him. I just want to apologize," Julien stammered quickly in a breathless wheeze. He was never going to understand this place. Every time he turned around, some new freaky thing was happening, enough to make him seem so small and ordinary in comparison. "I have to try and fix this. Please!"

Aiden nodded after another moment's consideration. He was still clearly agitated over the day's troubles, but he finally said, "I will allow disz, juszt disz once. Since you szeem to regret what you szay. But know disz – you 'urt 'im again and you will be introduced to a new kind of 'urt, one your fa'der back 'ome could never 'ave dreamed of. And Aiden keepsz 'isz word, 'isz promisesz. Each an' every one."

Julien stepped back and away, his body jerking awkwardly as he willed it to obey. His legs had turned to rubber and his heart was thundering in his chest. His body was threatening to faint from sheer terror, from the absolute honesty of the threat in Aiden's eyes and heart. Julien had seen the eyes of men like Gus who had killed before and wouldn't hesitate to do it again. That was the same look he saw now in Aiden's eyes.

Julien staggered away towards Kimble, fleeing the iron heat of Kimble's lover. As scary as Jerry might have been, he was no match for the look in Aiden's eyes at the thought of further injury to his beloved. Julien was young, but capable of understanding that. He walked carefully, making his way to where Kimble was sitting.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes – Howdy! Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who wrote to me and/or reviewed. I can't say it enough, but I really love ya, guys. You really keep me going. Makes all the time I've spent on Kimble worthwhile. :)

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(Three)

If Kimble had overheard the conversation that had just taken place between Aiden and Julien he gave no sign of it though he had only been a few feet away. His head was down as he gently swirled his small furry feet in the water, a warm, sleepy smile on his face. He turned slightly as he sensed Julien nearby. "Oh, hey, Jules. Nice day, innit? Fer a soak, I means."

Julien sat next to him, nearly falling as his legs wanted to give way. Aiden had frightened him so badly. He started to take off his shoes and socks, willing his hands to stop shaking. He watched Kimble as he did this, his back almost burning with the heat of Aiden's gaze upon them both. How could Kimble not have heard what had been said? How could Kimble be so happy to see him?

It was easy to see the answer. Kimble's face turned towards him, his eyes glassy and small. Julien had seen this look before, when his mother was high. It sort of scared him, the idea that Kimble must be using drugs like she did. What Julien couldn't know of course was that while Kimble was indeed quite stoned, it was from a good reason. It had only been a short time since Asher had left Kimble, the pilot had needed the Morrowhiem treatments to level him out after that morning's upset and Asher had seen to it that he had gotten them.

Kimble giggled at him. "You gots skinny little feets, just like Remy does."

Julien smiled at that, relaxing from Kimble's jovial tone and happy demeanor. "Everybody says I look just like him."

"Ya shurely do," Kimble replied, happy when Julien scootched in next to him and dipped his feet into the water. Much to Julien's continued bewilderment, Kimble wasn't upset to see him or was even questioning why he was there. Instead, the Siskan just winked at him and teased playfully, "There's fishes in here somewheres, goldy ones."

Julien laughed softly. Kimble was just a like a child now, just as Aiden and Remy had said. It was comforting in a way and made him feel all the more sorry for his hurtful words. It seemed so wrong now what he had done. Hurting Kimble had been like stealing candy from a baby or pushing a retarded person down just because you could. Julien may have had a skewed view of life from all that he had been through, but even he could now see he had crossed a line he never should have. He felt horrible. He didn't know what else to say so he simply said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't really mean it."

Kimble squinted at him in confusion and laughed playfully. "You yelled at me? Why, I don't remembers nuthin'."

Julien wasn't sure if Kimble was joking or not, but he wanted to give some reassurance, so he leaned in against Kimble, just begging to be held. Of course the pilot immediately complied, throwing an arm around him companionly, and affectionately kissed the top of his head. In his drunken state, Kimble released powerful vibrations of love and affection, ones that Julien could readily feel. It helped to reinforce what Gambit had told him, of how Kimble had such a big heart and an honest love for him. The show of power was a little scary even as it felt good, it confirmed the fact that Kimble never was and never would be fully human. Julien recoiled inwardly a bit at it, Frost's warnings about mutation being a sign of sin were too ingrained to fully ignore. Still he fought it enough that Kimble didn't sense his unease and the pilot kept him close, so warm and lovely.

Julien sat quietly, nonetheless, loving this simple embrace. He was still reeling from coming from a place where it seemed like he could trust nobody, to another where some had embraced him without judgement so lovingly just as Kimble was right now. Kimble was so high that his empathic control was weak. He was vibrating love and concern for him, something Julien didn't think Kimble was faking. Again it reminded him of all that he had lost - his mother, his sisters - and he didn't want to lose this either.

Julien sat quiet another minute and then said, "Remy said you and Aiden are married."

Kimble stiffened a little defensively and withdrew from the embrace, making it look like he was just settling back easy. Still he answered the question honestly, "Yeah. Me and hims. He saved me. M' Angel wuz gone and he made it all better."

The wording was strange but Julien knew what he had meant. Gambit had told him that Kimble once had been the father to a child, a child that had died. The loss had been difficult and perhaps part of the reason why Kimble had reached out to him so easily – Kimble adored children of all ages and took great pleasure in caring for other people. Remy had told him this so he'd understand that Kimble's affections were real and not a ploy to lure him in for any sort of sexual wrongdoing. Kimble would never harm him.

"What was it like, getting married?" Julien asked next. It wasn't so much that Julien wanted to know this, but he thought that by asking, it might release some of Kimble's tension and show that he was trying to understand. Plus it helped to change the subject away to more happier matters.

Kimble smiled then, straightening up and brightening instantly. "Oh, it wuz so beautiful. We wuz out here in the Solarium with alla the trees and flowers. It wuz real late at night and alla the stars wuz reflectin' in the big mirrors, like. The fireflies wuz winkin' all around us like, dancin' like they wuz there just fer us. There wuz me an' m' Dreamer, Rems and Molly. There wuzn't no preacher like at m' brother's weddin' on account of me an' Aiden bein'... well..." Kimble stammered here, faltering as a flash of pain crossed his face. He shivered off a vibration of mingled sadness and misery at not being so readily accepted as he was, but then seemed to pick up where he left off, moving around his pain to brighter things. "..but Asher married us just fine. He's like a preacher nohow on account of his love fer God an' all. It wuz real nice. Aiden takes real good care of me, he keeps me safe. He looks after me and I knows that he loves me. He'll loves me ferever," Kimble finished, his eyes misting a little with happiness.

Julien nodded, feeling Kimble's vibrations of love and adoration waft off of him like a heady perfume. The thoughts that Kimble expressed were ones that he thought of when he thought of marriage, of the way he had once dreamed of being with Kiden. He didn't know if he could ever be that way with her or with anyone ever again, but he still liked the idea of it. He was lonely enough now that he had no desire to stay this way. He was just afraid that if he was struggling this much now, that it would always be that way. Who would want to be with him now?

Julien, a bit gloomy now and wary that Aiden was still guarding Kimble, glanced behind him to see if the Dreamer was still there as he had been before. He could see now that Remy had joined the blonde Siskan at his bench and the pair were chatting and laughing about something just between them. Julien guessed that Aiden was pleased enough with his apology that murder was no longer necessary, at least it seemed so judging by the way he was being so friendly with Remy.

Julien did note that with Remy, Aiden was more relaxed than he was with other people. Look now, the blonde Siskan even had his hand over one of Remy's, a sign of gentle affection. Aiden was smiling up at him the way he had looked at Julien before the ugly incident with Kimble on the Dragon 2. There was genuine respect there and they looked so happy. The best of friends.

The thought of how the pair so warmly regarded each other prompted Julien to ask Kimble, "What is Remy like? I don't really know anything about him."

"Oh, he's the bestest," came Kimble's prompt and positive reply. "He saved m' life not just once but twice. The first time I wuz all stabbed an' bleedin' like and he used his energies ta fix me. He done it without thinkin' if he might git hurts by it or not. He just seen it needed ta be done and he done it, his heart is so big, ya know?"

Julien startled a bit at that. Yes, Gambit had explained to him that Kimble and the other Siskans fed on energy for sustenance. It was hard at first for Julien to imagine gentle, playful Kimble being in that kind of drastic situation, but then the X-men had come into Twilight with full force and shut the camp down. Maybe they did that sort of thing all the time. Julien wasn't that surprised to hear Kimble speak of Remy as some kind of hero, it was obvious that he was important to the Siskans the same way he was always speaking so highly of them.

Kimble was oblivious to Julien's distraction. He had continued to ramble on, saying, "The second time wuz my own faults. I runned away once cause I was havin' a real bad time with the rules here and all. I didn't thinks no one liked me cuz I ain't reals like you guys are. I wuz wrong that nobody cared – he worked real hard to finds me. He come after me and he brung me home, got me outta the trouble I wuz in without me even havin' ta asks. It wasn't easy an' I kinda put him through hell, but he stayed by me. It's cause once he's got a powerful love fer someone, he don't ever lets it go. He's got that fer you, I kin tell, and not just cause he's yer blood. You won't never have no better friend."

All that brief story did was fill Julien's head with more questions. It did make him think more of Kimble, that here was someone who had been through some of the same experiences he himself had. It made him feel less alone to be here among the marginalized. Of course, what Kimble said next, caught his attention.

"He's an orphan, you know? Someone just up and left him on the steps when he wuz just a coupla days old. He always wanted kids, now he has a whole great big bunch of them. If he'd known you wuz in trouble out there, he woulda come sooner fer you, no matter what it took. He'd do anything fer yous just like he would fer his twins, just like he come after me when I tooked off. Don'tcha even begins ta doubts it. Yer family now and we're gonna takes real good care of yous. You'll see." With that, Kimble hugged him again, once more bathing Julien in his pleasant, blissful empathic glow.

Julien nodded thoughtfully, warm and fuzzy now with Kimble so close and his friend once more. He had to admit that even though this day had been for the most part exhausting, he felt more at peace than he had when he had first arrived here from Twilight. That big deep anger that had been living inside of him for so long now was dissipating. He was learning that people he had assumed were the bad guys really weren't and that maybe some of the good guys weren't so good after all. It made him feel all the more sorry for al the trouble he had caused since he had arrived here and to the big blue doctor especially. He would have to apologize to him too, of that he had no doubt. The sooner the better.

----------------------------------

Logan leaned against the wall across from the holding cell door, looking in on Star and Hank. Hank was still sleeping from the tranquilizers they'd shot him with and Logan was mulling over the ominous fact that while Star was inside and reunited once more with her beloved Master, she had situated herself in the corner away from him and not at his side where she should be.

As he had promised, Asher had come along directly after he was done with Kimble. He had treated Star and left just a few minutes earlier. Asher was not shy about his powers and he usually treated his kin freely and out in the open. This time, because of her terrible ordeal, Asher had chosen to treat Star in private. When Asher worked his magic, he often "saw" what it was that was troubling his patients in a near telepathic fashion. It normally didn't faze him all that much, but when he had left Star, Asher's face was solemn and drawn. He whispered softly to Logan that he needed to go pray and that he would return shortly, hopefully before Hank woke up. Asher felt he might have to treat Star again, but she needed to rest before that. Asher had looked so stricken that Logan let him go without protest even though he would have preferred that the centaur stay until they were sure there would be no fuss when Beast saw that Star had been returned to him.

Logan had chosen to watch over the pair until Asher returned. He wasn't happy with what he was seeing. Star was dreamy and high from what Asher had done, her eyes barely open, but it wasn't intoxication that had her keeping her distance. Even treated, she was still devastated by what had been done to her. Logan certainly hoped she didn't think Hank would refuse her, he couldn't even imagine such a thing. Hopefully once the doctor revived, Star would see that all was well and they could put this unpleasantness behind them.

Logan heard Karen come into the Lab and ask for him. He couldn't quite keep his poker face on as she came down the hallway towards him. He had missed her while he had kept away, not realizing just how much until now. "Funny finding you here," Karen teased gently when she saw him. She had noticed the slight smile he had tried to hide.

"I wanted to see how Star was doing."

Karen just grinned at him and challenged playfully without bitterness, "Why would you care? She's just a machine."

He turned to look at her, biting down a flash of anger, not sure at first that she had been teasing. When he saw she wasn't really messing with him, he relaxed. She had been told what had happened and that it had been Logan who had found Star. He could see in her face that she had understood that seeing Star like that had affected him, no matter what his earlier statements had been. The look there on her face was enough that he was willing to say, "Yeah, something happened when I found her like that. Okay, so she's not fake. None of them are. Happy now?"

It was the closest Karen was going to get to an apology and she took it. She came to him and hugged him, giving him a kiss. He accepted her advances and they folded against each other like the long time lovers they were. She was very happy to see him, her scent and her low laugh told him so, her love for him had never dimmed in spite of this latest round of bickering. All was forgiven.

There were things she would never be able to hide from him. He knew she was still attracted to him even after all this time and had remained deeply in love with him. Though they had their share of fights over the years, they were still just as passionate in play as they were at war. She would never leave him, of this he had no doubt. She broke off from the kiss and playfully teased him some more, "It's okay to admit that you're wrong every once in a while, you know. It's a very human thing to do."

He just grinned at her, her hands still in his. "Just 'cause I said they ain't fake don't mean they don't need to be watched."

"I never said they didn't. It does mean they need people."

He knew what she meant. "Fine. I'll go see Skye right now if you'll stay here and keep watch on these two."

"It's a deal. See you at supper tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Let me know if Star needs anything."

"I will."

He left, taking his time letting her hands go as he passed. Her smell was all over him now in his clothes, warm and wonderful. She had worn a perfume he liked and he doubted it had been an accident.

He made his way to the Maximum Security jail and found Skye's cell locked out, just as he had left it a couple of days before. He removed the locks and was a bit taken aback by what he now saw. The arrogant, willful Siskan had shifted out of his adult skin into that of a ten year old boy, no doubt to look more vulnerable in the hopes of garnering more sympathy. He was hunched in the far corner, a blanket half slipped off of one bare shoulder. He looked pale and shaken, his cheeks wet with spent tears, a ruse that Logan wasn't about to fall for quickly. Even now, he barely trusted this freak as far as he could be thrown.

Logan rapped his knuckles on the wall. "You gonna be a good boy now?"

Skyle rolled his head bonelessly towards the sound of Logan's voice. His eyes were half open and not really focused. "Who... who's there...?"

Logan waited a moment, really looking at the kid. He was thinking hard, doing an unexpected calculation – just when was the last time that Skye had been fed? With the cell blocks on, Neal might not have been able to transfer energy to the prisoner, something he hadn't considered. The quick scan he'd made of the guest list on the watch desk had indeed shown that no one had come to see Skye after the locks had been set. The Siskan was low on power, starving and weak. It didn't mean he was any less dangerous, of course.

Logan scanned his badge and dared to enter the cell. Just as he expected, there was a chirp from the control panel nearby. The man at the watch desk called through the wire, "Everything okay, Mr. Logan?"

It had been weeks since anyone had actually unlocked the door to this cell, Skye wasn't allowed many visitors. He was considered much too dangerous. Logan could reach the comm button from where he stood and did so. "Yeah, just keep watch," he replied, knowing that the inner cameras would now be working.

"Right, sir."

Logan stepped forward. Evidently Skye recognized his voice – he scootched away in real fear, falling over and losing the blanket in his weakened state. He was so feeble and slow, it would take nothing for Logan to grab him, but that wasn't Wolverine's purpose in coming so close. He simply wanted a better look before deciding just how run down the Siskan was. He brushed his fingers along the bare skin of the child's shoulder as he scrambled by, still not fooled when Skye shrieked in fear at the touch and skittered away under the bed. The brief contact had been enough. The Siskan's skin had been ice cold to his fingers. A few more hours and he'd have been unconscious without enough energy to remain awake.

Logan stood and returned to the panel. He clicked the comm switch again. "Send fer Neal but tell him to wait fer me at the desk."

"Right."

Logan just looked at the creature under the bed, still wary but to some degree mildly sympathetic to its helplessness. Logan was familiar with this, he had punished Aiden once this way, leaving him in holding until he had actually blacked out from lack of energy. It had been informative. A Siskan being so low on power like this was the same as if it had been drugged, Skye would be sluggish and sloppy, unable to defend himself. Logan came back and knelt down, taking a peek under the bed. Skye hissed and swung out with one hand, his fingers like claws, in a ridiculous attempt to rake the man's face. He was so slow a blind man could have avoided it.

"Tsk, tsk," Logan clicked. "Now that wasn't so nice."

"I done... nuthin's wrong." Skye gasped, his voice not that much different in this much smaller skin, only exhausted. He could hardly catch his breath. "You gots... no right to holds... me like this!"

"You murdered Jennah," came Logan's quick reply. He was referring to one of Skye's earlier victims, a girl who had lived here at the Complex. Skye had killed her and fed her to Kyle and Kristalay. She had been a good person and Logan would never forgive him for it.

Skye hadn't forgotten it either. "M-meat ain't murder... ain't that what you humans say? I hads... to feeds.. m' lions!"

Logan just snorted in disdain. "You coulda just killed a fuckin' cow."

Tired as he was, Skye still managed a low, careful cackle. "Lions eats... what lions eats... It was... what they... wanted."

Logan wasn't mollified in the least by that answer. It merely encouraged him to complain, "You stole people and turned them into your lions. You aren't God. You don't have the right to enslave anyone."

"But thems... the ones.. what mades me? They had the rights... to enslaves me?"

Logan sighed and sat down, leaning his back against the wall so he faced the bed. He could just see Skye under there enough to make sure he didn't try anything. Annoyed as he was, Wolverine's heart wasn't completely closed to Skye on this particular issue. Logan despised slavery in all its various forms. Now that he'd come to more of an understanding with Star, he felt a greater compassion towards Skye – but not much. Star had retained her innocence. Skye hadn't.

Still, Logan gave his answer. "No, no they didn't. And you don't have to live like that anymore. New place, new rules. The only one who determines when you get out is you, by cooperating. We have to be sure you can be trusted and not hurt anyone. That will take time."

Skye began to sob weakly. He had been shown so little real compassion in his long and troubled life, it was too hard for him to take comfort in anything Logan had to say. "I am... what they mades... me. Either kills me.. or lets me go. I cain't ...I cain't....stays like this... no more. I hates.. alla yous... so much fer doing... this ta me's!"

Before Logan could give his reply to that he heard a noise coming from down the hall. He had given orders that Neal wasn't to be let down, but it wasn't Neal who was arriving. Hard sharp hooves clicked on cold tiles as Asher brazenly came right on down the short hallway at a fast clip and then right into Skye's open cell as though he owned it. Logan didn't like it, but the fact was Asher had permission from on high to see Skye whenever he pleased. It seemed the centaur had chosen now to come, something Logan doubted was a coincidence.

Logan scrambled to his feet in a second, instantly furious at the invasion but halted when instead of cowering under his authority, Asher simply looked at him hard in a way that gave him pause. Maybe it was something left over from what Star had just been through, or some kind of strength from a fresh round of prayer. Whatever it was, Logan was so unused to such an unwavering stance from this Siskan that he was taken aback enough not to start shoving. He did growl sharply, "This ain't a good time fer you to be here, Ash!"

"It's the perfect time actually," came Asher's just as confident reply. "That's m' brother and you ain't been takin' care of him so good, I kin sees."

"How dare you --" Logan challenged but was momentarily silenced when Asher had the brass to actually turn away from him as though his authority meant nothing.

Asher held out his hand to the poor child sobbing under the bed. "You 'bout ready ta lets me do fer you now?"

Skye's sobbing ceased and he dared to peek out from under the bed. In all the time Skye had been incarcerated here, he hadn't once let Asher near him, preferring instead to pass his time by giving Logan as much trouble as he could from this tiny room. Asher's primary function amongst his kin was the same as his Title – Regulator. He took it upon himself to keep them in line – to comfort them, to hold them, to criticize them if necessary, but most of all, to treat them chemically when they needed it, something Skye had long denied him.

Asher never forced his treatments on anyone, they had to be willing to participate or he refused. He kept asking and Skye kept refusing so it had never happened. No amount of threatening or cajoling on Logan's part had even budged Asher's stance on that, something that infuriated Logan to no end. Logan was hoping that in this case Asher might make an exception for the greater good of the community, but Asher had been unyielding. Yet, now, inexplicably out of the blue, he was here. Logan was perplexed by it, but not enough now to interfere. He wanted to see what Skye was going to do.

"Come on out, Mishnar," Asher gently coaxed, using the first name Quishnalay, the maker, had given to Skye, one whose original personality had been shattered like so much glass and then repaired. "It's time."

Skye groaned long and hard in internal agony, but he was moving, slowly coming out and towards his second visitor.

Asher knelt down as Skye came to him and then took him into his arms, laying the child into his lap. He rocked him there, soothing him and holding him so tight. Asher whispered soft Siskan to his brother, laughing softly as if they had been long lost to each other.

Logan sat back down and watched this, chewing on his anger. Yeah, he was finally getting what he had wanted – Skye treated – but he just couldn't find it in himself to even entertain the idea that this would change anything as far as how Skye needed to be kept. It was going to take a hell of a lot more than tears to make him let Skye out of this cell.

Skye began to bawl, issuing his complaints as all of Asher's patients did at this point of the treatment process. "The Master... ain't never loved me! Nobody ever has! They broked me ... and hurted me... They tooks and tooks from me!"

Asher nodded, making his familiar circles with one hand over Skye's tiny chest. "I knows, kitten. You just lets it all on out now..."

Wolverine was quiet, having seen all this before. Months ago he had watched as Asher had finally had his way with Simone and quieted the feral rage within that black skinned Siskan. Logan had even seen Asher project images of his patients into the minds of those around them, helping them to better understand the pain of the one being treated. He wasn't doing that now and Logan was happy for that, he had no wish to see into Skye's tortured mind. Logan had never heard of Asher failing to make progress with anyone he had treated and so had no doubt that Asher would succeed here with Skye. The only question would be, would it hold? Kimble was for the most part stable but even he had to be treated multiple times by Asher for it to be lasting.

Red Morrowhiem glitter drifted from Asher's hand as he made his circles, bright red sparkles that lay glistening on Skye's bare skin. Once Skye had run out of complaints, Asher worked his best trick, igniting the glitter so it flashed brightly. Skye cried out sharply and jerked in Asher's tender embrace, arching his back as he climaxed hard, a side effect of the chemical reset Asher was conducting here.

Asher bent and swallowed Skye's outcry in a deep and loving kiss, something that made Logan involuntarily shudder. He had to remind himself that these creatures where machines dressed in fake skins and not two male children engaged in a sexual ritual far too old for the tender years that both of their skins represented. It still gave him the willies.

"I sees ya, kitten, I really do," Asher was saying. "You thinks you ain't never been loved but that ain't hardly true. I gots a love fer you so big there ain't no words big enough ta says it. You ain't never been alone and you ain't all alone now. I'm gonner looks after yous now, just like ya needs me to."

Skye finally shuddered his last and then lay still, his eyes closed and his body limp as though he was now deeply asleep. Asher rose stiffly and then lay his precious charge down on the bed, covering him up with the blanket. He turned to Logan and said, "He's real low on power. Neal kin still feeds him some while he sleeps. He won't be no trouble."

"All right," Logan agreed, rising himself. He could see that Asher had expended energy for this latest session -- he looked drawn and tired, his eyes just slightly bruised. "You okay?"

Asher nodded and then looked deeply into Logan's eyes, his gaze so profoundly sad and in pain. His voice was scratchy and tired as he said, "I knows you don't think Kimble ain't worth no good, but you just don't knows how lucky he is. Skye's trouble is all so plain and clear to one who kin sees. The wrong dominant personality wuz chosen fer his repair. The Games Master didn't have no time nor care abouts who's ta leaves in charge, not like Kimble who had so many people what loved him, or even Aiden what had Trishnar and me to looks out fer him. The two of thems at least have a chance at a normal life even though they'll have trouble every now and agains.

"There ain't no takin' back what wuz done ta Skye. Once the dominant's been chosen and set in place, it's all over. You see, sometimes the strongest personality of thems what been shattered kin be the easiest ta picks ta be in charge since they's usually right up top and easy ta sees. But the strongest don't mean they's the best choice. Kim ain't the strongest of his four selves, Zander is, but he wouldn't have been no good to be in charge alla the time. T'was the same with Aiden. I knew he wasn't the strongest, but he was the best of his group, too. Lucky fer both of thems, they's had good folks looking out fer them – good Masters -- to makes that better choice. Skye didn't have no such luck and now it's too late. Well, 'cept for one last chance, maybes. He ain't never gonna be right 'til someone out there takes him fer their own and gives him the love he really needs to be whole in this world."

"I ain't lettin' him outta here," Wolverine promised. "He's much too dangerous."

Asher nodded. "I knows that. But then ya gots to be lettin' some of the folks in then instead. It's the only way he's ever gonna git chosen. Don't be leavin' him all alone or he'll never git no better no matter how many times I treats him." Asher's voice was so terribly sad at the thought of Skye's pain and the time it was going to take to get him right.

"Only a freak would ever choose him," Logan couldn't help but sneer though he said it quietly. He didn't share Asher's sympathy for Skye at all.

"Stranger things have happened," Asher said in disagreement. "Simone got chose and looks how well that's turned out. I know you don't approves of anaone being a Master or a Mistress of anaone, even us, but you cain't deny that it helps a Siskan turn around. All it takes is someone with enough fortitude to draws out the good parts of us. Skye's got a Lover buried in there, buried in there deep. The right person could maybe draw him or her out enough to settle Skye down. Make him good enough and safe enough to function in the real world. Simone is proof of that."

"It hasn't been that long," Logan argued, thinking that Simone and Rogue had been together only a matter of months. It was hard to judge the longevity of their relationship just yet. It could last five more days, weeks or maybe even five more decades as far as anyone knew. It was so hard to predict what any Siskan might do, something Logan knew all too well.

-----------------------------------

The subject of Logan and Asher's discussion was dimensions away but no less happy for it. Simone was in the tent he shared with his Mistress, their day long over even though neither one seemed ready for sleep. They lay face to face in their sleeping bags, comfortable in spite of the slight damp. The air here was sweet and so much better than the filtered air of the Complex, the chirping of Twilight crickets making pleasant music for them. They were naked and chest to breast, his eyes filled only with her.

Simone was making lazy circles with his hand against the bare skin of her back, loving the way it felt to be so near to her. He was Siskan and so there was nothing better than this. He loved to be loved, and would die without her.

Rogue was enjoying the company herself and said, "It's so nice here. Quiet. Ah wish we could just stay here forever."

"We kin comes back anytime ya wants," Simone promised, planting soft kisses on her bare shoulder. He loved this the best, the cuddling. She was so warm and alive, her skin a pleasure to touch. "Leroy won't minds."

"How would we keep in touch with the folks back home? We could get stranded here."

He laughed softly at the idea. "Would that be so bad? I could be happy here, just you an' me an' Leroy."

It was true, he had never known such peace as he had now. He had a precious Mistress now to love and care for him plus a good friend he could visit any time he liked. Simone wasn't like his more gregarious kin, he didn't need people around him to be happy. He liked it best when it was just him and his precious Mistress.

Other people just got in the way. Like right now he wanted nothing else but to be fully intimate with his Mistress here – when didn't he really, for that matter? – but he didn't dare, not with the other X-men so close by in their own tents. He saw them as unwelcome overseers, pesky babysitters, and he didn't want to make a fuss and frighten them. With his self esteem at an all time high right now, there was little to frustrate him enough to bring the Anger out, his more dangerous and violent self. It was only during full intercourse that he might become rabid, the Anger popping out from flashbacks of having been beaten by his former Master, Ebon, so badly, though that was happening less and less. Still, he wouldn't chance an outbreak here where it would be noticed. He wouldn't be spoken badly of. He wouldn't risk embarrassing his Mistress.

Aiden had spoken to Simone some about how the humans around them couldn't be fully trusted. Simone did not doubt his Siskan brother, the man's shine gave away just how sincere the advice had been. Not to mention that just the short time he had spent here in the company of Fury's men had only reinforced the idea.

These men were soldiers and not a jovial lot. They were at a somber business out here – the investigation of a mass murderer and fiend – and some of them had lost comrades here in the raid. There wasn't much joking around and these guys were all business. Of course there was the constant reminder of what Frost himself had done while he was here. If these humans could prey on each other so gleefully, they could never be trusted and Simone didn't dare turn his back to them without a watchful eye.

While Simone might have believed Aiden's words in regards to most humans, he did not think they were true of his Mistress. It was too easy for him to overlook her shortcomings and dismiss them, they were soon forgotten the moment she touched him with the tenderest brush of her hands. When she was so close to him like this, skin to skin, there was nothing like the sound of her heartbeat and the brilliance of her shine bathing him in its lovely glow. She would never harm him, this he felt with all his heart.

The only other exception to Simone's dislike of other people was Leroy who never seemed to judge him. Leroy had always been a comfort even when it had been from a distance in the beginning. Being physically here in Leroy's company had been an even greater pleasure, Simone's only regret was that he had waited so long to finally cross through that door. So many adventures he must have missed out on.

Twilight itself was a lovely place to behold and Simone had fallen in love with it almost instantly. It was Leroy's home and Simone could stay here in bliss without much trouble. Well, that wasn't exactly true, he would still need someone to charge him, there simply wasn't enough sunlight here to keep him powered up for long. But maybe that could be worked out eventually. His Mistress was so clever, he had no doubt that if this was what they really wanted, that she could make it work.

Leroy had given Simone and his Mistress the grand tour. There were hidden treasures in the trees – small bushes with the best berries they had ever tasted and strange purple colored bees that made the sweetest honey. There was a large lake nearby – the one where Kimble had gently lifted Tilda from the water – that had sparkling fish in it that clever Leroy had no trouble catching. He had made them a fine supper that all the X-men here had enjoyed.

As they had moved about this glorious place, Leroy was careful to point out where there were hidden traps and mines that had yet to be removed. Rogue was sure to mark these even more clearly so there would be no accidents and for a clean up crew that would hopefully remove them in the future.

It hadn't all been fun and games here however, the small band of X-men that had been left behind here in Twilight had been busy this day. It wasn't hard work, just time consuming. Jean and Storm had flown about under Cyclops' careful direction, looking for more children hiding in the woods, but so far none had been found. They were hoping that was because there were none left behind and not because they were too afraid to come out. Only time would tell.

Simone and Rogue were luckier in that regard. They had most of the day to themselves, just setting up camp, though they had been asked several times to reopen the door between this world and home on Fury's behalf.

This Simone was not so happy to do though he never complained. He had remained cloaked the whole time was here – Leroy was given a cloak to wear just so he could see Simone easily – but being so close to these military men made him uneasy. He was learning to read the shines, Asher had been so helpful in this regard, and he could see how these men disliked the X-men no matter how polite they were to their faces. They didn't trust the X-men any more than the X-men trusted them. The X-men had powers and they did not, their shines were rimmed with a constant fear, their eyes always wary. Simone was glad he was cloaked, these ugly thoughts were not directed at him per se, only in passing, as him being lumped in with the mutants as a group.

There was more of course. Rogue was constantly at Simone's side so he had no real fear for this safety, but he had no doubt these men would snag him for their own use if they could. They didn't care about his feelings, they did not love him, he would always be nothing more than a tool to them. This he could see in their cold cold hearts so filled with fear of what they did not fully understand.

More than once Fury or his men would wander into the X-men's camp by Leroy's house and the X-men knew it wasn't by accident. These guys were doing their best to try and catch Simone unawares in an attempt to make him expose himself so they could discover just who he was. It wasn't funny and Cyclops let Fury know it wasn't appreciated. It made no difference however, these were military men and not ones to give up easily. Simone was too big a prize if he could be stolen away.

Rogue was not the only one looking out for Simone's best interests. If something needed to be said, Cyclops was sure to call Simone by his codename – Traveler – and not his real name so Fury wouldn't have a clue who he really was. It was effective, the generic title wouldn't even give these men a clue as to Simone's gender. He could have been anybody as far as these guys could figure out.

The doors Simone created had been needed. Fury's men had been working hard and fast, collecting a lot of evidence and bringing equipment back and forth. Fury's men had come through and with their big overhead lamps and big bulky equipment, were now busy digging up the graveyard just outside of the small town and taking pictures. Cameras flashed almost constantly. Most of the deceased buried there would probably not be identified, but Fury wanted the body count to further his case against Frost.

The men had also done their work in the town itself, tearing the cabins apart, looking for more evidence. They had taken a lot of material including the metal dumpsters with all the SupraMax wrappings. It was going to be a diverse assortment of charges that Frost was up against. He would be lucky to escape the death penalty. Either way, he'd never be set free again.

Fury was taking no chances. The X-men were not asked to assist in any of the forensic work or evidence collection lest a jury think that they had tampered with what they had gathered in any way. It was just as well to the X-men, they were happy enough to keep to themselves as much as they could in this team effort and search for more survivors.

Simone was perplexed even by what little he saw and was constantly asking Rogue questions about what the equipment was and what it was for. His Mistress did her best to explain as much as she could. Simone's vocabulary of English was somewhat limited and while it was growing fast, some of these things were too complex for him to immediately grasp. The forensic items in particular disturbed him greatly and she glossed over the more gruesome aspects of that. Like Seth, Simone didn't want to hear about killings and beatings, he was much too sensitive. It made all of Aiden's cautionary warnings about bad human intentions all the more reasonable.

Simone had lived in a small world for a very long time, going many years without leaving a six by six holding cell. That isolation had protected him he could now see and he didn't like how dangerous this large world really was. He loved the trees and the lake and the berries and his Mistress of course, but even he was thinking it would be better if his world didn't get much larger than it was growing. It simply wasn't safe out here.

As much progress as Fury and his men were making, it was growing clearer that Fury was probably going to ask for more time to complete all this work and that his request was going to be granted with Cyclops' permission. Scott was already discussing a rotating roster to keep Simone not only covered here and protected but fed as well. Simone wasn't the least bit concerned by this, he knew his Mistress was going to be allowed to stay with him the whole time and he was happy to remain here with her and Leroy. Perhaps even Asher would come for a visit as well, Simone had no doubt that the centaur would love it here in the trees.

At any rate, all this human activity didn't trouble Simone that much. He knew Fury's men would finish their work eventually and would then be gone, leaving Leroy in peace. After that Simone could be here with those he cared about in the solitude and the peace he had always enjoyed. Perhaps after that he and Mistress could stay here all the time with an occasional X-man guest now and again to keep him charged and healthy. Maybe the X-men would be happy to have a small crew living here full time, just as watch dogs so to speak, making sure nothing from here made it back to their home world. That might not be so bad.

Back in their tent. Rogue was agreeing with Simone about how nice it would be to stay here, especially after all those pesky SHIELD guys finally finished their work and left. "Maybe Henry could work something out," she breathed into his ear, closing her eyes and finally settling down to sleep.

Simone just smiled there at that, pleased to hear it. For him, life was just getting better and better.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Kimble stood at the stove, pushing food around in a pan. He was making a shrimp stir fry, nice and spicy the way Aiden liked it. He knew that this day had been rough on them both and now that his Morrowhiem high was dissipated, he was more aware than ever of Aiden's disquiet.

_I fucked up bad this time_, Kimble was thinking, looking at his lover as he lay on the couch. Aiden was watching television, surfing distractedly and changing the channels, never staying on one for very long. He was sprawled out over that couch, one leg on, one leg off, his button down shirt open with one hand absently rubbing his stomach as if it was hurting him. His mouth was turned in a small frown, his shine still flickering from this morning's wounding. Aiden was trying to fight it, to ignore it, but it kept creeping back, the hurt. Kimble had seen this after some of their fights, sure, but it had never lasted so very long.

It had Kimble a little depressed. He thought back on an argument he and Remy'd had once, a long time ago when they had shared an apartment, before Remy left him for Molly. Kimble had gotten a little carried away then, too, and Remy had snapped some offhand remark, something to the effect that Kimble should have been left in the skin of a girl since he acted so much like one with his overflow emotions and the way he struggled with his feelings. Of course Kimble had been offended by the remark, even as he knew it to be true. Kimble wouldn't regret his skin though, he still favored male to male sexual interaction and simply loved the way he looked as a pilot. If only he could control his emotions...

It wasn't that he was ashamed of Aiden though the Dreamer would take it that way, no doubt. Kimble was afraid, pure and simple. He feared what others thought of him, always afraid that these humans around him might see him for how different he really was and simply turn on him. It wasn't enough that he wasn't even alive like they were. No, he was too emotional and sexually perverted. At least that was the way they so often made him feel. Even after all this time, Kimble still didn't completely trust them, not when they had turned on him so many times before. Julien's apology notwithstanding, the boy's initial revulsion at Kimble's unconventional sexuality was a prime example -- that wasn't the first time a friend had suddenly become the enemy nor was it likely to be the last. Kimble knew what it was like to be subverted and beaten. What happened before could always happen again and the pain never got any easier with each new attack. He just didn't know how to make Aiden understand that. Maybe if he could just get Aiden to lighten up a little, they could talk later and he could try somehow to make the Dreamer see.

The stir fry was soon finished and Kimble served it onto their plates. He clicked his tongue for Aiden to come and the Dreamer rose obediently, coming to the table. This was Aiden's favorite treat, but today it clearly held no magic for him. The Dreamer merely poked the food around on his plate, eating mechanically, that sad little frown not going anywhere.

Kimble was distressed to see this, but he still had some options to try and raise Aiden's spirits. He rose, opened a bottle of wine and poured his lover a generous glass. Aiden liked to drink, this Kimble knew. It could cheer him up. Sometimes if Aiden was drunk enough, he would just laugh and laugh and they would play and play for hours. Nothing would please Kimble more. Aiden smiled at it and drank heartily from his glass, eagerly draining half of it.

Encouraged now, Kimble leaned in close to Aiden's ear and whispered, "Let me please ya, Dreamer. Let's goes ta bed." He was certain Aiden would accept, it wasn't like the Dreamer to turn him down twice in the same day.

"Later, my love," Aiden answered without hesitation, giving quite the opposite response Kimble had expected. He drained the last of his wine and stood, wiping his mouth on his napkin. He brushed his lips across Kimble's and withdrew. "I wish to take a walk. T'anksz for ze szupper. It wasz good asz uszual."

Kimble's heart sank. He knew that he wasn't being invited to come along. Aiden's sullen disposition had improved with time, but there were still times when he would go off alone. He still had a need to be solitary, even more so when he was troubled. Kimble knew better than to interfere with his lover's needs, but today it hurt because he had every reason to believe this was all his fault. All he could do was nod and watch as Aiden walked away and out the door.

Aiden wasn't trying to be deliberately cruel. It was just that he was hurting deeply and was trying – and failing – to keep Kimble away from it. He made his way quickly down the hall and out to the Solarium, relieved to be out of the tension in their tiny little apartment.

The fact that he had only been here just a short time ago meant nothing, this was his favorite place to hang out. Like all the Siskans, it was just more comfortable here for him than in an apartment with no windows. The air was sweeter here. It was dark now, the large mirrors reflecting dim moonlight from outside, but there were a few tall lamps still lit here and there. He found an empty picnic table under a tree and climbed up to sit on its top, reaching automatically for his pack of smokes.

His hands were shaking as he raised a lit cigarette to his lips. Now that he was alone, he let his deepest, ugliest thoughts loose in his mind --- Kimble didn't really love him, the pilot had only settled for what he thought he could get. Someone to watch over him so he wouldn't be alone, nothing more. If Kimble was truly happy with him, he wouldn't hesitate to proclaim that love from the rooftops without worrying so much what other people thought of it. If Kimble was truly satisfied, there would never be a need to hold back in public, to hide their love away.

Aiden sniffed and closed his eyes as a tear dripped down his cheek. In spite of having just eaten, his belly hurt and he rubbed a fist across it, willing the pain to leave him. Kimble wasn't the only one to get a stomachache when distressed, it just didn't happen to Aiden anywhere near as often. It was a sure sign that this low he was in wasn't just a passing thing. He was in real pain.

"Heya, Dreamer. It ain't so bad."

Aiden swiped his face in irritation and straightened, upset at having his little sulk interrupted. "What you want, Ashair?"

The centaur came in closer, his hooves making no sound on the grass, the reason why Aiden had never heard him coming. He rudely invaded Aiden's space like he had every right to be there, leaning in to bump him gently and sifting a hand through Aiden's wispy blonde hair, vibrating well wishes and comfort. "I come lookin' fer you. I had an idear you might need some comp'ny."

Aiden pulled away, but not too roughly. He felt invaded, but it was so seldom that Asher would touch him this boldly that he wasn't about to be nasty about it. He enjoyed that simple pleasure far too much. Clearly the centaur thought he was upset enough to need some real attention. This wasn't the first time Asher had wandered out here accidently on purpose when Aiden would go off in a sulk. Asher considered it his job to look after all of his kin and he always seemed to know when one of them wasn't feeling right, even if they were all the way on the other side of the Complex. While it was welcome most times, today Aiden wanted it and hated it at the same time. He grumbled in annoyance, "I want to be alone."

Asher nodded. "Shure ya did. Didja haves a good cry?"

Aiden's look sharpened and he glared at his brother. "What you want?"

"Kimble loves ya just fine, Dreamer. Don't know why you keeps thinkin' he don't when it's all so obvious to the rest of us."

Aiden turned away with a snort. He did not reply.

"God loves ya, too."

Aiden snorted even louder at that, his head still turned away. He said in his best snotty voice, "Didn' you 'ear? God 'atesz me causze I'm queer."

It was Asher's time to make a noise in irritation. "No He don't. How could He? He made ya just as ya are."

Aiden looked back at him. "Quishnalay make me. 'E make usz bot'."

"Only cuz God allowed him to and under His guidance whether Quishnalay knew it or not. God wuz thinkin' there wuzn't near enough love an' laughter in the world. It needed a few of us Siskans in it," Asher replied, laughing a little at his own cleverness.

Aiden wasn't amused. " 'E allow it? Like 'E allow all ze oder bad shit to 'appen to me? I'd like to give ze buszinessz to your preciousz God. Let Him feel what a good Gladiator 'E make me. Mebbe when 'E bleed like me an' 'urt like me, 'E will undersztand!"

"Jesus bleeds fer us every day, Dreamer," Asher replied automatically. "But you needs ta consider things from a different perspective. All of them things wuz a path. And that path led ya right ta this bench. Ta yer Kimble." He risked Aiden's wrath to put his arm around the Dreamer's shoulders again, moving in closer. "Don't fights it, Dreamer. Don't question His gifts. Yer love fer Kimble, what runs so deep and strong, comes from God. That's what makes it good. Kimble loves ya. He would be broke without you in his life."

Aiden wilted a little at the thought of his lover, dropping his chin down as new tears threatened to fall. " 'E deny me."

"Not in his heart he didn'. He's just a little scared is all. His love fer you ain't never been stronger." Asher moved closer still, one arm still over Aiden's shoulder while his other hand slipped through the front of Aiden's still open shirt. Aiden shuddered in anticipation as that hand found the center of his chest and started making familiar circles. It had been some time since Aiden had needed a treatment, but he was lower today than Asher would have liked. It was time. "Relax, kitten. Just hush now a bit."

Aiden didn't bother to fight it, he knew he wouldn't win anyway. He had never been able to resist Asher when the centaur demanded his compliance, today would be no different. Aiden submitted willingly and leaned back instead, supported by Asher and let the centaur do his work. He jerked once as the Morrowhiem came in a rush and ignited, the rush sending him over the edge but not into the black. Even now Asher wasn't powerful enough to black him out, not the way Kimble could. His love simply wasn't powerful enough.

"Now ya knows the whole truth of it, Dreamer," Asher whispered, holding Aiden as the last of the orgasmic shudders rippled through him. "That's how ya knows Kimble loves ya more'n the whole world. Fergit what happens when the others 'r lookin'. You need ta looks no further than Kimble's heart to knows how much he loves ya."

Aiden nodded and let more tears slip down his cheeks. He knew Asher was right of course and now that he was more than a little high, it made that much more sense. He settled against Asher and allowed the centaur to pet him, to soothe him until he was calm and serene. He loved these treatments, he truly did, once he finally submitted. Nothing could beat this giddy high, this warm and lovely comfort. All of his pain was gone.

After a moment of loving companionship Asher brushed his cheeks. "Go home to yer Kimble. He's worried fer you."

Aiden nodded and wiped at his face knowing he must look trashed, he always did after a bit of a cry. He pushed a hand through his hair and found his feet. He was wobbly some after the treatment but managed to stay upright with a helpful hand from his good friend Asher. Aiden really wanted nothing more than to lay down on the sweet smelling grass and sleep under the reflection of twinkling stars, but he knew Asher was right. He couldn't leave Kimble all alone like that.

Asher said nothing more but let him go, there was no need for goodbyes between them. Aiden knew that no matter where he was Asher would know how he was, he was in good hands. Aiden shuffled to the exit and made his way home, rumpled and sleepy. Kimble was waiting for him, standing there in the kitchen, quietly smoking with his head down as he leaned against the counter. Aiden felt instant regret, he could see Kimble was sad. "Hey," he greeted, giving Kimble his best smile. He was glad to be home, glad to be here, and he let Kimble know it.

The pilot brightened instantly with relief, but was still a bit wary. He sniffed suspiciously at his lover. "You seen Asher."

"Yesz," Aiden acknowledged, coming closer. " 'E wasz dere in ze park."

"He gaves you a treatment."

Aiden nodded, knowing how he must look. His quick little brushup on the way here couldn't hide the smallness and shine of his eyes, the shuffle in his step, the blueness of his shine. He was more intoxicated from Asher's Morrowhiem than if he had taken the whole bottle of Kimble's wine.

"Guess we both needed it taday," Kimble reasoned to himself, keeping his eyes down. "Just that kinda day, I reckon."

Aiden shuffled up to Kimble and put his arms around his lover. Kimble's personal vibrations tasted lovely right up close and Aiden breathed them in deep. "Szo what? Let'sz go to bed."

Kimble accepted the embrace and Aiden's good intentions, but he still felt enough remorse to repeat himself, "I'm sorry I hurtcha so bad."

Aiden nuzzled Kimble's neck, not wanting to hear it. He just wanted to be in Kimble's arms and sleep off the rest of his high. His dreams would be so sweet. "You szaid zat already, my love. No need to repeat it."

Kimble frowned, unconvinced. "Then why wuz you still so sad?"

Aiden looked up into Kimble's face. He really hadn't wanted to do this, not while he was feeling so good, but he could see Kimble wasn't going to let this go. So be it. "You really want to know?"

"Of course I do!" Kimble insisted with no small amount of impatience. His eyes were already shiny with tears. "Yer important ta me! I loves you!"

Aiden's eyes, small and glassy from Morrowhiem, still managed some class of a penetrating stare. "Do you love me? Really, really love me?"

Kimble's face broke, those tears more than ready to fall freely now. "Why you even gots ta asks me that?"

"You denied me."

All right there it was. The evil sickness that was eating at him. It was hanging out there in the air between them like a bomb waiting to go off.

Kimble didn't know what to do with it, he only knew that whatever this was, it hurt really badly. He said in a wounded whisper, "I don't know what that means."

Aiden took a step back, leaning against the kitchen table across from Kimble and crossing his arms. He tried to keep the hurt out of his own voice as he attempted to explain. It wasn't easy. "When Julien szee usz, all you want to do wasz run. Like you didn' want to admit you wasz even zere wit me. Like you never love me. Like I embarrassz you. Like I shame you. Ze only reaszon you don' run wasz Julien block ze way out. Disz not ze firszt time you feel zat way. Ze baptiszm of ze twinsz, in Boszton wit Etienne. 'Ow long before you finally make it out ze door and leave me for szomeone a leetle more preszentable? Szomeone more preszentable to _**zem**_, to dosze whosze opinion about you mean more zan mine?"

Kimble's mouth popped open, aghast at the idea. Him? Leave? That was impossible. He was the one always being left behind, not the other way around. He couldn't imagine how Aiden would even think he could ever possibly leave. "I couldn't never do that. I loves you!"

"Do you? Will you never leave me? 'Ow can you promisze szuch a t'ing an' sztill feel ze way you do when anyone look at usz toge'der?"

Kimble sighed in exasperation, trying to work the mess in his mind. There was only one thing he could do. He was uncharacteristically bold and gathered Aiden up into his arms, yanking him forward by his shirt fairly aggressively. Aiden didn't fight it, he just kept his eyes on Kimble's, trying to assess what the pilot was thinking. Kimble didn't make him guess long.

"I ain't goin' nowheres," Kimble asserted quite firmly, floating them both up off the floor for emphasis, his wings spread wide. He wrapped his crooked cat's legs around Aiden's, holding him that much tighter against him and giving him no chance of escape. Kimble's lips were close to Aiden's own when he continued, "There ain't nuthin' gonner takes me away from you. You wuz dumb enough ta marries me, now yer stuck with me, likes it or not," he teased, the threat all too real. He meant every word.

"Likesz it or not?" Aiden repeated, finally smiling with true amusement. He couldn't help but tease, "Or what you do to me, eh?"

"Only this," Kimble challenged, pressing his lips to Aiden's and cutting off any argument. He was powerful and in control in that moment, sending an aggressive volley of vibrations, letting the Dreamer know exactly how he felt. Kimble's love was real in spite of whatever mistakes he happened to make. Their fears were mutual, he had been just as afraid that Aiden was never going to walk back in that door, a thought that was as devastating to him as it would have been to Aiden if their roles had been reversed. Their mutual angst was destructive and needed to be dealt with, preferably by tossing it out with the trash.

Aiden was much too high and needy to resist. He laughed with real pleasure and gave no argument as he was floated from the kitchen to the bedroom, Kimble pawing at him the whole time. Clothing dripped from them in a trail and Aiden grunted a laugh when he was finally laid down on the bed and dominated.

"This's the last time you makes me ask ya twice," Kimble threatened with real humor and finally had his way with his lover.

A couple of hours later, the Dreamer lay warm and comfortable, quietly smoking while gently toying with Kimble's hair, the pilot tucked against him, warm and asleep from their loveplay. The hurt Aiden had felt earlier had been washed away by their slow but intensely passionate coupling. Kimble had known just what he had needed and made sure he had received it. Kimble had been gentle with him and sweet in spite of his earlier aggressiveness. Aiden didn't like it rough when he was on the receiving end of things and Kimble was thoughtful that way, knowing just what would please him.

If Aiden had thought that being monogamous with Kimble might grow boring, it certainly hadn't happened yet, nor did it seem like it would happen any time soon. The pilot was creative and talented at keeping things fun. This round, Kimble had been quite thorough, Aiden's very skin was tingling. Aiden could not have felt more pleased at that moment.

Kimble could never hide his feelings during intimacy and Aiden had to admit one of the reasons they made love so frequently was so he could read Kimble's vibrations and taste the truth of them. Kimble was always eager enough for play, but unlike today, it was most often the Dreamer who initiated and Aiden knew perfectly well why. Kimble so loved to be asked, it was a reinforcement that he was desired and actively sought after. Aiden himself selfishly needed the reassurance he was wanted above anyone else and he was given that in how Kimble never refused him and was always ready and eager for it. Aiden would have been the first to admit these truths if Kimble had ever bothered to ask him why.

Kimble never did. He just went on his way, doing everything he could to make their life as smooth as possible. Kimble expressed himself in many ways -- he kept a spotless house and Aiden never had to want for anything when it came to food or having his clothes cleaned and pressed. Small things like a cup of coffee or a cold beer set next to him without having to ask, the extra blanket he always seemed to need, a fresh bottle of whiskey when the old one ran out, a steady supply of smokes. Those things that Remy had found so stifling about the pilot made Aiden want him all the more. Kimble was quiet and selfless, never looking for credit and it was too easy to fall into a routine of forgetfulness, something Aiden vowed not to continue.

Aiden had given some final words to Kimble though, before the pilot had finally succumbed to sleep. "You 'ave to choosze, Keemble. You muszt choosze 'oo isz more important to you – me or zem, ze onesz you fear szo very much," he had whispered into the fine curl of Kimble's ear, the pilot's face warm against his neck. "You muszt decide or you will go mad trying to pleasze usz bot'."

"I choose you," Kimble breathed, meaning it. He was so close to sleep, but there was real truth in his answer.

"Zen you muszt truszt in me to keep you szafe from dosze you fear will 'arm you wit' deir judgement and miszundersztanding. You 'ave not'ing to prove to anyone – not to me, not to zem, not to Zandair. I szee you heart every day and it isz beautiful and fine juszt asz it isz. Asz you are. You do not need to chanje for anyone. It isz my job, my luv, to protect you and keep you szafe, alwaysz. Not'ing will ever keep me from it. You muszt truszt in me, or we're never going to make it, you and me."

"I'm so sorry..." Kimble said to that, shuddering slightly as tears fell from his eyes. "I won'ts ever do it again, I swears."

"Aiden knowsz," the Dreamer replied, holding him close. He felt it this time, too, that this promise would never be broken. "And 'e love you szo very much. Szo very much."

Kimble laughed softly then, happy now, and drifted away, asleep before he could even finish his own declaration of love, not that it was even needed.

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Hank woke slowly from his drug induced sleep. He was aware enough to know he was no longer in a room with a bed, he could feel the familiar rough padding of one of the Lab's holding cells under his body which lay sprawled out and uninhibited. He vaguely wondered if it was the same holding cell he had wrecked, they probably would have had time to have had it repaired. He lay easy for a few minutes more, momentarily comfortable and drowsy as his brain tried to recall just how it was that he'd gotten here. Wasn't he supposed to be in the back room now?

The more awake he was becoming, blinking in the half light, the more he began to remember what had led up to his return to this small room. He'd been angry over something – what was it? Ah, yes. Star had gone missing.

He shifted now, reaching out beside him with one large furry arm. She was not there even now and his agitation began to resurface. Was she still missing?

A soft noise from nearby answered that question. Star was in fact here, he could now see, she had curled up in the furthest corner of the holding cell, her tiny body wrapped in a blanket as though she was trying to hide from him. She was sitting in a fetal position, her arms wrapped around her legs, tight and small.

"Star..?" he mumbled blearily, still not fully awake. "My love..."

"Master," she replied in a hushed and wounded whisper. She was looking at him, her eyes so terribly sad, but made no move towards him.

Hank knew then that something was terribly wrong. She was never this shy when it came to him, especially not in here where they had total privacy. "Come..... here," he growled, reaching out for her again. "Please..."

Her only answer was a soft sob and then she buried her head down under her arms.

That got him moving. He rose stiffly, hands and feet, his body still sluggish and slow from the drugs. They must have dosed him pretty high, he figured, he was now remembering just how violent and angry he had been. Had he frightened her so badly that she was fearful to come near him? He couldn't bear the thought of it.

"I'm sorry... if I hurt you..." he started to say, automatically assuming blame. It wasn't until he got close that he smelled it – Honey and blood. Star was Siskan, she had no scent, so why was this here? It hadn't yet registered that it was only through his newly enhanced senses that he could even detect these things, she had showered twice in an attempt to cleanse herself of Warren's abuse. It had cleaned her skin, but hadn't helped her mind set – as far as she was concerned she was still dirty even now, unfit for her new Master. Where now would she go?

Hank growled, showing a bit of fang. He knew now that whatever had happened, he hadn't been the cause of it. "What happened... to you?"

Star sniffed, still unable to look at him. "S-someone ..._**used**_ ... me."

" 'Used'? In what way?" he questioned, suspicious now.

She began to lightly sob. "F-fer m' healin's. I didn't wanner do's it.. But I thought.... I thought you'd wants me to. Him bein' a friend of yers and all."

Hank growled again, feeling possessive. He understood fully what she had meant, he'd long known that a significant healing often meant the sexual use of her body, whether she had desired it or not. She had kept nothing from him and had told him of her previous owners and what they had expected of her.

"Who was it that used you?" he demanded, his authority in this matter not to be questioned.

She swallowed hard and looked up at him, her light orange eyes rimmed with pain. "It wuz that guy with them fake wings. Warren. He seen what I done fer you ... and he wanted me ta do's the same fer him. He - he's the boss of this place, right? I had ta do it."

"He may be the boss of this place," Hank began, his anger somehow giving him the ability to speak clearly around his large clunky teeth. He wanted her to understand him and understand him perfectly. "...but he is never the boss of you, understand? _**Never!**_ That role belongs to me and me alone!"

Star cried out in shame and dropped her head again, sobbing now. He was sure to punish her, to send her away, she was too filthy now for him to ever want her again.

This he hadn't wanted. He reached out and with one hand on her elbow, took her chin with the other, making her look at him again. "I am the boss of you, child, because I will have no other. You are mine and mine alone, now and forever. You say I am your Master, but I am so much more than that. I will be your husband and no other man will ever touch you again!"

Star cried out and tumbled forward into his ready embrace, outright bawling now with relief. With any other Master she wouldn't have cared what anyone else had done to her, especially if there had been any inkling that the Master would have approved anyhow. Her relationship with Hank had grown so strong and personal that all that had changed. Her intentions with Warren had been honorable, but she had regretted them from the start. Of course by then it was too late to turn back. She had saved a life, but had lost a part of her soul in doing so, a piece that Hank had just returned to her now.

"I thought you would makes me leave!" she cried, shaking now like a child.

"Did you offer to help him?"

"No! He told me he had sumpthin's ta show me, sumpthin's fer you. Then he brung me there and then he.. And then he....!" she couldn't even say it, it was so horrible.

"Then that is a whole different matter," he soothed, his large blue hands buried in her long silky white hair. "Why should you be punished for something out of your control?"

"I coulda just lets him die, but I didn't cuz I thought it was what you'd have wanted me ta dos."

"I want you always to be generous and kind because that is who you are, but I wouldn't have wanted you to suffer like that, especially since it was forced on you."

She squeezed him all the tighter. "Don' ever makes me leaves! I wouldn't even ever wants ta even be alives withoutcha!"

"That is something you'll never have to face," he promised her. "I'll never turn you away. I want you here by my side, the next few days especially. I don't want you out of my sight."

Where a statement of possession like that might make some people upset or nervous, it only made her happier. It was no threat, it was a guarantee of her safety, of her protection. There was no one else she would have accepted it from.

He let her stay there a few moments, letting her cuddle so warm and tight, while his own mind went right back to work. It was clear that things needed to be done - the first of which was him getting out of this cell and back out into the real world. He was going to need so many things – physical therapy for sure, some extra help with his speech as well. He would embrace these things, he promised himself. He would put himself back in charge, not only for his own sake and the sake of the people he watched over, but mostly for Star. He would never leave her so vulnerable again.

"Now," he said finally, straightening them both out and getting them to their feet. "The best way for me to do that is to get back out into the world. I am done with holding cells, done with rooms. I must get back to my work."

"Of course, my love," she replied, showing a little cheer at least. She still clung to him, but wasn't holding him back.

Hank moved to them to door and Star let them out. She'd been given free access in and out previously and that was still within her ability.

The Lab staff was nervous at first to see him come out on his own but they soon saw that he was under control and not being well, so beastly anymore. Hank noted that Fallen appeared soon after as though she had been privately called but he wouldn't begrudge them their caution. She kept her distance, giving him his privacy, she merely nodded politely at him in greeting. He had made a solemn promise to himself to regain his control and knew that as soon as they realized it too, her services would no longer be needed.

Hank did accept graciously the great big hug that Seth gave him the moment the young Siskan saw him. Seth was still new to his empathy and he unconsciously released a small amount of Morrowhiem glitter from his hands in his happiness to see his old friend. It was a compliment, the glitter was most often reserved for those that the Siskans felt were extra special. It wasn't a casual thing done for everyone. Hank felt a bit squished in Seth's eager embrace, Star still clung to him so it was like being sandwiched in white. It still felt wonderful, feeling all that love and concern for him.

"It's so wonderful to see you!" Seth breathed, so child like and innocent in his affection for the big blue doctor. "It wasn't the same when you were gone."

"I'll do my best to see it doesn't happen again," Hank promised, his words heartfelt and true. He would be happy himself to never again be so weak and needing so much attention.

Seth finally released him and stepped back, letting him breathe. "Is there anything I can do for you now?"

Hank nodded. "Actually, yes. Star and I need to freshen up a bit first, but I would appreciate it if you would gather all the files we currently have on Honey and its properties. I would also like as much data as you can gather on its effects and have it all sent to my office. There is work to be done."

"I'll do that at once," Seth replied with a slight bow and departed, his grin wide.

Hank and Star went to their private quarters where they enjoyed a nice long leisurely shower together and a meal. These were simple things really, but they meant so much to Hank now. These were the steps that were leading back to his full return and he was eager for them.

There was another dimension to this of course. It had taken this unexpected illness to suddenly jolt Hank fully awake. As far as he was now concerned, he had been sleeping a long time, filling his life with work and endless projects with little or no actual scientific return. What he had been doing was trying to fill a great big empty hole inside of him that he hadn't been aware was there until Star had come along. He had been missing a real life, one with a companion that was as good as custom made just for him. Now that he was back on track and fully aware of just how much he had been missing, he was going to allow nothing to come between him and Star again. He could never go back to who he had been in the past, he would die first.

Hank and Star, now refreshed, returned to the Lab and to his office, the nurses still watching them carefully. There was one thing Hank was going to waste no more time in getting to – as part of Kimble's probation from his earlier troubles, he had been ordered to swallow a tracker that Hank had designed, one he had several spares of. This device could not be easily removed and when he now offered one to Star she swallowed it without any fuss, happy to accept any extra protection he was willing to offer her. She was just as aware of how Hank had changed her own life and like him, would do anything it took to maintain it.

Hank couldn't be more pleased when he got to his office. Not only had Seth delivered all that he had asked for, he had started a fresh pot of coffee and the room smelled wonderful. It smelled like home and he was never so happy to be here in it.

Star wasn't that interested in coffee, she needed some real rest now that the worst of the day had passed. She curled up on Hank's huge leather couch to sleep and was out cold just a few moments later. Hank left her to her rest. He began to comb through the vast collection of files that Seth had provided, the Siskan had been quite thorough. Hank wanted to know that substance inside and out, all the better to help himself and perhaps Warren as well. He no longer wanted to see his former friend ever again -- he couldn't trust himself not to kill the man on sight - but that didn't mean he wouldn't offer him some kind of assistance. It was going to take a lot of work and he was ready now to get right to it. He opened the first file that looked promising and began to read.

---------------------------------------

Asher stood in his sanctuary, humming softly as he lit some of the candles he had placed there. It was just before sunrise, his favorite time of day for prayer. The large park was most often empty now because it wasn't brightly lit, he wouldn't be disturbed – or so he had thought.

He felt Zander's presence long before he heard the pilot's soft furry feet moving in the grass towards him. Asher had been quite correct when he had told Logan that Zander was the strongest of Kimble's assorted personalities. His vibrations were the most powerful, mostly because they were so full of anger and contempt just as they were now.

"What kin I do fer ya, kitten?" Asher asked calmly when he heard the Punisher finally enter the open wooden building. He kept his back to the pilot, his slow and steady pace in lighting the candles unaltered by the unexpected interruption. He didn't want to appear afraid though he was certainly cautious of his more aggressive clutch mate.

"I hates this," came the swift reply, loaded with potential violence. The words were heavy, made all the more menacing by Zander's deep gravelly voice.

"This ain't the thing to hates," Asher corrected gently, keeping his own voice light and easy. He knew that Zander was a lot like Logan and like that feral man, had to be spoken to in certain ways to keep that anger contained. He understood that Zander was speaking of this small sanctuary, the churches one floor above, and of religion in general. They had not been so kind to Kimble's poor fragile self esteem.

Asher continued to instruct, even as he moved from the candles to restacking the Bibles he'd laid out, everything nice and tidy. "Confusion, bigotry, misunderstandin'. Them's the things what need fixin'. You cain't do that with yer hate, it kin only be done with yer love."

Zander snorted in derision. "Love? That's Kim's department."

"That's why you should go," Asher said, finally turning to look at the pilot eye to eye. "You should be the one sleepin's right now, Zander, not him. Does Aiden even knows yer out walkin' around?"

Zander just shook his head in disagreement and smiled his wicked smile. "I don't care what he or anaone thinks. What I do care about is that dumb ole Kimble's taken the pussy way out, he's gonna to let Aiden fight alla his battles for him. Let him be the big protector of us 'stead of me. Well, that shit ain't gonna fly around here. I had sumpthin' else in mind, sumpthin' better."

Asher's look sharpened, seeing blood and danger in Zander's shine. "Yer violence will accomplish nuthin' ya really wants. They'll lock you up just like they's done ta Skye. Don't think they won't. Where would Kimble be then?"

Zander snorted again and boasted proudly, "They cain't touch us. I won't lets them."

Now it was Asher's turn to laugh. "Right. Logan's just itchin' fer an excuse to put alla us away, now you'll just be handin' him one. Alla our fine work just gone ta waste. It would be better fer you to let alla this go," Asher advised, gesturing to his building. "This ain't the real problem nohow. You could go out on Remy's team and do some honest good in the world. The Lord's work ain't done in no house."

"I don't believes in yer stoopid Lord," Zander said to that, turning his head away. He wasn't lying.

"Then believes in this – if we Siskans wants the respect we deserves, we haves to prove ourselves. We haves to make a good impression on thems what don't really understands us. Don't even try to say it cain't be done, we all knows that yer sword has made more of an impression on these folks than any of Kimble's tears, and not in a good way. It'll takes time to undo alla that."

"I had to defend our Angel!" Zander snarled with a flash of teeth. They were both referring of course to the incident where Zander had chased Mary Green through the Complex – a woman who had tried to steal Angel away. Zander had caught his prey all right, and wasted no time blowing her to bits with his glowing sword, right in front of a crowd. It had been grisly and messy and wouldn't be forgotten anytime soon, especially not by those who'd had the misfortune of having to clean up the mess.

Asher nodded. "Yes, but Mary coulda been taken alives. She coulda been questioned and maybe some lives mighta got saved. You gots ta learns control. Ta punish don't always means to kills.

"You wants power? You wants respect? You'll only gits them by showin' yer in control. That you kin be trusted here and out in the field if Remy chooses ya to be there. Anathin' else just undermines our position here, puts alla us at risk."

Zander squinted at Asher then, seeing something he hadn't before. "You gots them all fooled, ain'tcha?" he said, and then laughed, the unpleasant sound of it loud and clear in the dim light of the rising sun. "Wow, yer even more clever than I ever tooks ya fer."

Asher stood up straight, unsure just what Zander was getting at. He didn't like the way the Punisher was looking at him now. It was so ...predatory.

"Oh, don'tcha worries none, _**kitten,**_" Zander promised, his voice loaded with more than simple ironic humor. "I won't tells no one what yer up to."

"There ain't nuthin' ta tells," Asher protested, but it didn't stop all the colors racing through Zander's shine. The Punisher was right quick, so he was.

"It wuz a good strategy," Zander continued. "Still is. Ya puts alla yer pieces in the right places, moves them inta positions of high status over time, never arousin' much suspicion. You gots Kim and Aiden with the thief in transpertation, Star with the doc in medical, Simone with Rogue in Security, Seth feedin' old man Logan alla the spook news he needs ta hears ta keep his guard down. Vera nice. Well played. So tell me, what are yer plans fer Skye? You gonna fix him up with the big boss, maybe git that old man outta his wheelchair or what?"

Asher's eyes widened with defensive indignation. "It ain't like that!"

"Right...right," Zander agreed, no better a liar than Kimble ever was. "It's okay. It's a great plan. I likes it enough to plays along. Fer a while. Just ta sees where it goes." Zander walked away, still chuckling softly, but then paused at the doorway of the sanctuary, looking out onto the grass as he asked, "So where's Kiernan?"

Asher sighed in exasperation at Zander's game, going back to his Bibles. There had been six Rogues in the special clutch that Quishnalay had made for the Game. Of the six, five were now accounted for – Asher himself, Kimble, Skye, Star and Simone. Only Kiernan was missing, the Pink. "I knows she's safe," the centaur answered after a moment. Asher's gifts included the ability to sense others of his clutch, though there were so few of them now. Only eight had survived.

"Is she close?"

Asher closed his eyes in sadness, thinking only of his sister, so far away. "No. The plan wuz ta keeps her so far outta the Game that she couldn't ever be found. Looks like it worked."

Zander nodded, issuing more malicious mirth. "Yer good with that. Plans I mean."

"There ain't no plan!" Asher protested again just a bit too loudly, losing some of his usual tight control. Zander had a way of doing that, of digging for chinks in a person's armor and finding them. Asher's voice was sharp with annoyance as he snapped, "Don'tcha haves somewheres else ta be's right now?"

Zander turned back, pleased at the rise he'd gotten out of his clutch mate. "Not really. What's the matter, don'tcha likes the company? It's been a real long while since you been with anaone, ain't it?"

Asher backed up, untrusting of the streak of red that just ripped its way through Zander's shine with his words. "I don't know whatcha means."

Zander, having found a new game to amuse himself with, stepped closer. "What's it like being celibate? I'll just bet it sucks. Maybe I kin fix that fer ya."

"Now there ain't no need fer that..."Asher stammered with real fear now, raising his hands defensively as he continued to retreat. Unfortunately the sanctuary was small and Zander had the door, there was nowhere for Asher to go.

"A Rogue fer a Rogue," Zander cackled, following him and barging right into Asher's personal space. "It'd be fun. Oh, the things I could do fer you....."

Asher didn't fight the intrusion, at least not the way Zander had expected. When the Punisher leaned in with a kiss that had far more to do with dominance than pleasure, Asher allowed it, drawing Kimble's more violent self in that much closer. The moment their lips touched in a bruising, searing kiss, Asher pressed his hand, fingers spread wide, square over the center of Zander's chest and let fly with a powerful burst of Morrowhiem, igniting it at once instead of taking his usual slow pace with it.

Zander jerked hard in surprise with a startled snarl of rage, unable to tolerate such a large amount gracefully. His legs gave way from a violent, heart stopping orgasm that dislodged him neatly, just as Asher had intended. It was Kimble who caught the last of it, convulsing with enough force that he looked like he was having an epileptic seizure, his sharp toe claws scratching deep grooves in the wood. Asher held him as he thrashed his way down to the wooden floor of the sanctuary, making soft apologies in Kimble's ear as he kept him so close, trying to ease the pain of his fall.

"Wh-what the fuck...?!" Kimble complained drowsily when he finally stopped shaking, not altogether sure what was happening. The last he had known he was in bed with Aiden. What was he doing here? He could tell that Asher had just treated him though he couldn't fathom why. It hadn't been any fun though he was a bit dizzy from the chemical reset. His wooziness changed to alarm when he finally realized just where he was and that he was actually inside the sanctuary itself, a place he had never dared to enter. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the large wooden cross hanging above him and over the altar, gleaming almost menacingly with the rising sun. He thrashed again, certain he would burst into flames or be blown away by a bolt of lightning or worse. He was too unworthy, too unclean, too much of a sinner to be in here.

"Easy, easy, kitten," Asher soothed, running his hands over Kimble's shoulders, his arms, his cheeks. He was still leaking Morrowhiem glitter from his hands, anything to keep Kimble as still as possible. "Ain't nuthin' gonner happens to ya here."

"I cain't be in here!" Kimble protested, trying to worm free from Asher's grasp. He was still afraid, still fearful of what might happen no matter what Asher was trying to promise. "I ain't near good enough! Lets me go!"

Asher wouldn't relent. "Yer more than good enough fer God, He loves ya just as ya are no matter what them other folks say. Relax, Kim. I wouldn't never putcha in harms way, you knows that."

Frustrated that he was unable to move away, Kimble turned his head down to the floor so he wouldn't see the large cross looming over him. If he couldn't escape, he would at least change the subject. "What happened? Why am I heres?"

"Zander came ta talks ta me."

Kimble whipped his head around to face Asher at that, his eyes wide at the thought that the Punisher had stolen control of him so easily. "Scuze me?"

"I knows ya heard me," Asher answered, his hands still soothing. "Zander wuz here and he gots a bit outta hand. Ya caught the end of it. Sorry, I knows that didn't feel so good."

Kimble looked down again. "He said sumpthin' mean, didn't he? He's always sayin' sumpthin' mean. Why cain't he just stays away?"

"He does it cuz it makes him feel real strong and powerful, just like any other bully, Kim. It don't mean nuthin'. But that don' mean you don't gots sumpthin' ta learn."

"What's that?" Kimble asked, keeping his eyes away.

"You gots ta be stronger than this and stop bein' so scared of evrathing. The stronger you is, the easier it'll be ta keeps Zander inside where he belongs. Zander said that Aiden promised ta keeps ya safe. Well, keepin' ya safe from God'll be the easiest thing he's ever done since God ain't gonner lays one finger on ya. Alls He gots fer you is love, just like me."

Kimble didn't want to hear it. He scrambled to his feet, standing on trembling legs. The big cross was still there as threatening as ever, made all the more creepy looking from his lingering Morrowhiem high. "I gots ta go."

"It won't hurtcha," Asher promised. "God ain't no enemy of yers."

Kimble shook his head in sharp negation. "The church lady said me and Aiden 're gonner burns in hell. That sounds like an enemy ta me. Aiden's home waitin'. I gots ta go."

Asher sighed softly in frustration and let Kimble go. He knew it would be better to do this gently rather than force Kimble to see the more obvious truth. Once freed, Kimble bolted for the exit. He could already see Aiden coming for him, walking across the grass, his eyes full of concern for his missing companion. Kimble's heart was filled with relief, of knowing that his absence had been so quickly missed.

It was at the last moment that Kimble halted, one furry foot just above the grass, the other still inside the sanctuary. It had taken him that long to fully register that he had in fact not burst into flames and no lightning bolts had come from the sky. No angry words had boomed at him out of nowhere from the alter, the cross itself had not fallen on him. The only thing he felt right now was Asher's terrible sorrow at the thought of his leaving. That once again, Kimble had refused to listen.

Aiden now stood in front of where Kimble was hesitating, his smile a bit sad as he asked, "Which way you go, eh? In or out, my luv?"

Kimble back stepped a bit, retreating back inside. It wasn't out of fear, that had now been replaced by a strange curiosity. Maybe Asher really was right and he would come to no harm in this place.

Aiden followed him in, confident and smiling more now. He spread his arms and said, "You szee? No'ting 'appen." He then reached for Kimble's face and drew him in for a gentle loving kiss.

Kimble whimpered softly. If they were to be punished, surely it would happen now, from this act of blasphemy being performed right in front of the altar. He felt Aiden's confidence like a warm and comforting blanket, but unlike Asher, Aiden was certain nothing would happen because he didn't share Asher's faith. To Aiden, this was nothing more than a beautiful building of wood and candles. It was still a good place because it was Asher's and Aiden loved Asher almost as deeply as he did Kimble.

Aiden stepped back, releasing him. "Zere are many t'ingsz to fear, but disz plaze isz not one of zem. Not everyt'ing you 'ear from ze **Chuckfet** isz de trut', you should know zat well enough by now."

Kimble turned to see Asher smiling at him now. The centaur embraced him. "You kin comes here anatimes ya likes, even if it's just fer the quiet. I hopes that if ya listens hard enough, you'll hear God eventually and knows that He's got great plans fer you. Fer alla us Siskans."

Kimble just rubbed his eyes, tired now. It was rare that he should need three treatments in one day and he'd had enough. He was overloaded and ready to crash. "The only plans I gots is fer goin' back ta sleeps. I'm sorry Zander gave ya a bad time."

"There wuz no harm done," Asher said, giving Kimble another kiss before releasing him back into Aiden's care. "Git some rest now. Thinks on what I said, it'll all gits better, I promise."

Kimble nodded and Asher watched as Aiden walked him out, their arms encircled around their waists, two Siskans bonded for life. Asher couldn't help but feel a small tug of jealousy for what they had, though he tried to squash it as he did most of his emotions. Zander hadn't been exactly right about everything, but he had been correct about one - in many ways the celibacy did suck, even if it was just the absence of a constant loving touch. Asher felt God's presence at all times, but it wasn't the same as Zander's fiery kiss. Asher would be lying if he said that he hadn't enjoyed that just a little.

"T'ain't nuthin' a little prayer cain't fix," Asher mumbled to himself, letting go of his envy and happily went back to his Bibles, starting the rest of his day. He had enough to do without dwelling on what he did or did not have.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

Remy wasn't one to let things go for long and he wasn't quite done with his wayward son. Julien and Kimble had made up and the worst had passed, but the boy wasn't done making his apologies. It was time for Julien to pay Hank a visit.

It was two days after Julien's apology to Kimble when Remy picked up Julien from his new quarters and brought him down to the Lab. Julien had been warned in advance that this was coming and he hadn't fought it. It was still difficult, but he was learning to adapt to this new environment he found himself in and all it was asking of him. He hadn't yet dared to touch a Bible but at least he was listening more to those who were trying to teach him to see things in a different light. Julien had seen the good that had come from his apology to Kimble and understood that this had to be done, especially if he wanted any kind of chance at being accepted here.

Once at the Lab Remy was surprised to see that the big blue doctor wasn't readily seen. He had been told that Hank was out of the back room and supposedly back to work, even if it was only in a limited capacity. He had expected to see Hank here with patients but he was nowhere in sight.

"You seen de doc?" Remy asked a nurse as she cruised by them.

The nurse hesitated, seeing Julien there at the thief's side. It had already gotten around by now just who Julien was and there was more than a little animosity towards him here in the Lab. No one was happy about what had happened to Hank. "He's in his office," she answered tersely, her eyes a bit hard. She couldn't imagine why Remy would have brought him here.

"Merci," Remy replied and steered the boy along with a hand on his shoulder. They made their way down the hall towards Hank's office and as promised, found the big blue doctor seated at his desk in front of his computer, one big paw on the mouse. He was being slow and halting with this tool and not his usual quick and easy self navigator. Even this was something that would take time to relearn.

Star was nearby as she always was now, curled up on a small sofa there, her eyes closed as she slumbered under a pile of blankets. Her shine was a little ragged still from what had happened to her, but had enough blue in there that Remy wasn't worried for her. Like Asher, he knew that the best medicine for her was Hank's constant presence.

The thief knocked softly on the open door and Hank turned at the sound, at first smiling at his unexpected visitor but was then cautious when he saw who he had brought. "Well, hello there. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"De boy here got sumptin' to say to you," Remy replied and gave Julien a gentle push forward.

Julien was rigid with fear. He hadn't seen Hank since that fateful day that their destinies had collided so badly and he couldn't help but be shocked silent by what the Honey had done. He knew that Honey was toxic but had no idea that it could alter someone so radically. It was a completely different man he was looking at now. He still hadn't overcome his aversion to such extremely mutated people and the fact that this was all his fault was only making that worse.

Hank was dressed in his usual scrubs and lab coat and appeared to be all right, but he'd only been back out in the world for just a couple of days. He still felt edgy inside, often on the verge of letting some of that internal anger slip out. Fortunately for him, much of his previous inner fortitude remained and the old doctor was winning. He wouldn't forget the internal promise he had made to maintain his control, if only for Star's sake. He felt better already just sitting here in his office and doing some of the old familiar things again. It made him feel more normal and less of a freak. He couldn't do everything as easily as he had once done of course, he was having a terrible time with writing, he couldn't quite get pencils or pens to fit in his thick heavy fingers. He hadn't yet dared to try any extended typing, but he would have to soon. He was running out of ways to make notes as he continued his research on the Honey and how he might help with Warren.

Hank hadn't been told Julien was coming, but he wasn't that surprised by it. He could see by the stern look on Remy's face that this was more of his idea than Julien's. The boy looked stricken and pale, terrified to be there. Hank should have been angry at seeing his former attacker, but all he felt was pity for the lad. He looked as though he might piss his pants.

Julien felt it as Remy gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, encouraging him to speak. He stammered weakly, "I .. uh... I'm sorry ..for what I did to you." The apology was sincere, but Julien was still so scared. He couldn't even look Hank in the eye.

Hank's left hand fisted before he could stop it, he was still working on his troublesome anger, but his voice was even and calm as he replied, "Your apology is accepted."

Julien startled at those words, he couldn't help it. It couldn't be that easy, could it? Not after what he had done. Kimble had forgiven him so easily, yes, but Julien's attack on him had been verbal and less damaging. What had been done to Henry was unspeakable. He began to stammer, "If there is anything... anything.. I can do to make it up.. to you.. I would do it."

"You could start by letting me see that hand of yours."

Julien tucked it away behind his back, his eyes still down. It wasn't out of fear so much as shame. He didn't like attention drawn to his poor mangled fingers. "I meant somthing I could do for you, not you for me."

"I know what you meant and this is for me. I jwould find it an interesting challenge to see how much use of it we could restore. I won't hurt you," Hank promised. "I just want the opportunity to help you."

"Why would you help someone like me?" Julien couldn't help but ask, his voice already cracking with emotion. He was never so fully aware of just how unworthy he was as he was in that moment. He deserved nothing, the mutant piece of trash that he was. He had been so horrible to everyone and yet they always seemed to forgive him.

"Because that is what we do here," Hank explained. "Unlike most people you seem to have allied yourself with, we civilized beings actually do try to do good in the world and pass our blessings on to others. It is up to us to provide good examples so that those who come to know us will want to do the same."

Julien closed his eyes on a rising wave of anxiety. This was too good to be true, he couldn't possibly trust it. Here again was yet another example of how everything here was so contradictory to what he had experienced in his short life. People were simply not this nice.

"Welcome to a new way of livin'," Remy said to him, leaning in close. "Dis what real honest, moral people do, dey way dey suppose' to act. Someone do good to you, den you do de same for someone else, comprenez? Gotta spread de love around. Pass it along."

"Trust me," Hank tried to assure him. "I just want a look at you. Perhaps do a couple of tests. Nothing invasive. I think I may be able to help you regain some use of your hand. I won't know if that is possible unless you let me see it."

Remy gave the boy another gentle push and he came forward, still shy with that hand. Hank reached out and gestured, "Let me see."

Julien reluctantly complied, holding it out. He wouldn't even look at it, at his terrible shame. The fingers were all twisted and bent, lumpy and misshapen. He could hardly move them and he often felt a constant ache in there though it had been better here in the warm, dryer air of the Complex.

Hank was doing his best to be gentle as he carefully ran his own less than human fingers over the worst of the damage, mindful of his newer, much larger claws. It was still a struggle for him, he had lost so much of his former dexterity. As it was, he knew that there was no way he'd be doing the reconstruction surgery even if it was possible to repair some of this. It didn't matter, he already had a couple of specialists in mind, ones that owed him favors.

"I'd like to start with an X-ray."

"Bien," Remy agreed readily, as if it was up to him. "I gotta run an errand. You can take care of dat while I'm gone, eh? I won't be long."

"No problem."

Remy left them, confident that Julien was in good hands so to speak, and made his way down to the medium security wing of Logan's detention area. His coat was heavy on one side as he walked briskly, his roomy left pocket stuffed with a big stack of tan envelopes. He had submitted a list of names to Charles only yesterday, candidates for what he hoped would be his new squad. To his surprise the Professor hadn't protested many of his selections, though he did give the thief some cautionary notes to be careful with some of his more bewildering choices. It only cemented the idea in Remy's mind that the man was truly desperate to add to his depleted ranks of X-men. These invites would not be handed out personally, he was planning to mail them after this one quick errand.

Remy had picked out quite a few kids that had already been turned down for squad status more than once by other squad leaders. He could just imagine the looks on their faces when not only did they not get turned away yet again, they had actually been sought out and requested. Unlike other squad leaders, Gambit was looking to build a different kind of team and wasn't focused on power and strength though he had chosen a couple of bruisers to round things out. He was seeking diversity and cleverness, things his stepfather Jean Luc would have appreciated.

Remy arrived at the security wing and used his badge to enter. He signed in at the desk and moments later stood outside Kyle's cell, just looking in for a moment. He knew Kyle had to have heard him come but the boy was still turned away from the door, reading a book of all things. Logan had given Remy the impression that Kyle was some sort of uneducated feral, too far gone to be taught anything. Obviously that was far from being the actual case. It was an unspoken message for him not to underestimate what the kid was capable of.

Remy took his time, wanting to read Kyle's shine before talking to him. It was speaking volumes right now, all those swirling colors. The agitation told Remy that yes, Kyle was aware of his presence and curious about him, but the lad was too cautious to betray himself by turning around. He was wary indeed, there was a good measure of brown in there which was a sign of fear. There was also a deep layer of grey -- a swirling mix of a deep and penetrating loneliness and a stubborn belief that he was a creature of no value. How did Gambit know this? Well, these were colors he had long observed in Kimble's shine, things that had been steadily fading since Aiden had taken charge of him. It was just as well – Kimble's improvement was giving Remy confidence now that he might be able to reverse the trouble in this young man's shine as well. He certainly wanted the opportunity to try.

Remy rapped his knuckles on the wall, going through the motions of trying not to startle him. "Bonjour, Misieu Gibney. Could I trouble you for a minute?"

Kyle turned around then, unable to hide a look of surprise on his face. It wasn't shock at having a visitor, he'd heard Remy coming from a long way off, it was the use of his formal name. No one ever did that. It was a sign of respect, something he wasn't much used to. Of course, it could also be a trap. "Who you?" he questioned suspiciously, squinting a bit. He recognized the scent, but wasn't sure from where.

"You don' remember me? I flew you and Logan out to Twilight," Remy explained, careful not to mention the long lost Kristalay. Logan had reported how Kyle had flipped out when Skye brought it up. It was best not to speak of it at all.

Kyle nodded at the reminder. He'd been upset about Skye on the way out that day and trashed enough on the way back that he really hadn't paid Remy or his Siskans much mind. "What you want.. mrr! ..with me?"

Remy smiled, doing his best to lay on the charm. "I'm putting a special squad together, yo' name came up."

While Remy hadn't want the other kids to know just who it was who was heading up this new squad, he felt that Kyle was a different case. This young man had been lied to and fucked with enough that Remy figured it was best to hide nothing from him. No secrets. Perhaps it would encourage him enough that he might actually accept what he was being offered.

Kyle, ever untrusting, growled sharply at his words and turned away, going back to his book, his shoulders high and tight with anger. If Remy had thought his shine was unhealthy before, it was worse now.

Remy just stood there, waiting, growing all the more perplexed when it was clear he had just been dismissed. He had thought the kid would jump at the chance to get out of this cell. Perhaps he was mistaken.

"So you not interested, den?"

Kyle, unhappy, glared at him and replied, "Everyone just uses me. Mrr! Weapon X, Jael, Logan. Why would I think.. mrr! ...you'd be any different?"

Gambit popped a stick of gum in his mouth, buying some time for him to get his thoughts in order. He had expected this and it only confirmed that he was right to be so open with the guy. "Now first of all, me and Wolvey ain't even close to bein' de same person. As fo' dose other guys, our goals ain't de same neither. All I'm doin' is buildin' a squad of folks to go out and help people dat can't help demselves. I was t'inkin' I might go about it in a different way. See dere's more dan a few kids out dere like you dat de folks in charge here got no hope for. I was t'inkin' it might be real funny if I put together a whole squad of dem and dey turned out to be de best squad of dem all, eh?"

Kyle squinted, digesting what the thief had just said. "Like sayin' ...mrr! ...fuck you to them all?"

Remy's grin grew wide. "A _**lot **_like dat, oui. Can you just see de look on Logan's face?"

Kyle's smile joined his. "I might be...mmrr!! ... interested in that."

Remy raised a finger and said, "Mais, I got only one rule, but it a big one – you can't be eatin' anyone out dere, fils. It wouldn't look good, you takin' bites outta yo' own crew, comprenez? I know you got problems, all of us do, so I'll help you in any way I can, oui? We help each other."

Kyle nodded, having pretty much known that one rule already. "Logan... mmrr! ...know about this?"

"Don' matter if he do or not. I got de word from on high, Logan ain't got no say in dis yes or non, eh? Understand, dis ain't no conscription. You come, you try, you don't like it, you walk away, no 'arm done. You'll be restricted at first in dat you'll have to stay in the lock up when you ain't out workin' with us or training, okay? But of dis all work out, you'll get a room just like de others in de squad, comprenez?"

"Count me in," Kyle agreed, his smile huge now.

"Bien. Coupla days, I'll come callin' on you again. You be ready now."

Kyle just laughed. He wasn't in a position to be going anywhere, all he had was time. Well, that and now some hope. Hope for a different future.

* * *

Remy walked into the empty classroom, looking it over. He had been promised one of the school's classrooms for his use and was happy to see it was a good sized one with plenty of chairs. He had sent out twenty invitations and was curious how many of the kids would actually accept. These things were almost never refused since a joining a squad came with so many extra privileges and a significant rise in status amongst their peers.

The invites had been fairly simple – they simply stated that a special squad was being formed and that those receiving the invites had been selected to join it. They did state up front that being on a squad could be physically demanding but those who would need extra help getting into shape would receive it. It would be the same for any class work and academics that might also become part of the training. Remy was hoping that these incentives would keep some of the more promising kids interested that might have declined out of fear of failing.

With the exception of Kyle, he had sent out the invitations to his chosen ones anonymously, he hadn't wanted the kids to agree or refuse just because they knew who the squad leader was in advance. In spite of that precaution, there had been some rumors circulating amongst the young ones here about Remy possibly leading a squad, creating some eager anticipation about what that might be like. While he had never been in charge of a full squad like this before, he had taught many classes in self defense, most notably in the use of the bo staff. Few here were his equal with that particular weapon so his reputation had preceded him some. His classes were always full and the waiting lists long. That and well, there was no mistaking the fact that his natural charm had worked its magic amongst many of his female students, there were more than a few of them with crushes on him, something that both amused and embarrassed him to no end. He would have to deal with that as best he could now that his leadership would be more up close and personal.

Kimble and Aiden had come along for this first orientation meeting and had drifted behind the teacher's desk, taking positions against the chalkboard, side by side. Kimble was a little nervous, he disliked anything that might draw attention to himself, but Aiden was gently vibrating waves of calming peace and cheer to set him at ease.

Kyle had come along for this as promised. Remy had placed him in a front row seat, but furthest from the door, giving him some space to make him more comfortable. Kyle, on Logan's orders, was still dressed in his prisoner's orange and couldn't be mistaken for anything other than what he was. Still he was relaxed and comfortable, curious about just how this new direction might change his life, if at all. At any rate, it was better than being cooped up in his cell, Cody's feline company notwithstanding.

Remy had brought Julien along for this and the lad was slumped in a seat in the first row, his head down. Remy's reasons for including Julien were purely selfish – he had wanted Julien on this crew all the better to keep an eye on him but also in the hopes that their relationship might bloom into something less cautious than what they currently had. Julien had agreed if only to try and make up for some of the trouble he had caused. Besides it kept him close to Aiden and Kimble, the only two people here he could truly count as his friends.

Julien wasn't so shy about being here with his dad, it was the judgement of the other kids he was cautious about. He had no idea who Remy had invited but he could guess that some of them would probably know who he was. He felt vulnerable, exposed, and at the mercy of others to protect him. The restraining collar still flashed around his neck, he hadn't yet dared to have it removed and didn't know if he ever would.

Remy wasn't oblivious of his son's concerns but was being cautiously watchful and giving him his space. These were things Julien would simply have to work out on his own and hopefully grow all the stronger for it. It was time to grow up.

Gambit glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was getting close to the time to begin this so he finally settled down, sitting on top of the teacher's desk Indian style and munching on an apple he'd brought along to calm his nerves. He couldn't help but smile with some amusement as he heard the first voices come trickling in from the hallway.

The first two heads peeked in and looked at him in confusion. "Is this 206?" one of the kids asked, looking at his invitation in bewilderment. It clearly wasn't what he had expected.

"Dat's right," Remy answered. "Take a seat, sil vous plait."

He recognized them at once — both were very young and probably wouldn't even register on the list of valuable talents. Thing was, Remy was looking for more than a little flash and pop.

The older of the pair was a redheaded boy of about nineteen, though he didn't look a day over fourteen. He was nerdy looking and frail, his true age known only to those willing to take a closer look at him. His mutant ability was that he could read and to a degree possess the minds of nearby animals. He was never without one near, most notably a large white rat he could never be separated from. The inquisitive and well cared for rodent was with him even now, its head peeking out of a roomy vest pocket, reminding Remy so much of Asher's Mumbler. The lad's name was Tristan Rodgers, but folks here just called him Dewy, a nod towards the more infamous fictional character, Dr. Doolittle. Remy had thought he might be useful -- among other things -- in working with Kyle.

The girl who had come in with Dewy was harder to classify – Remy knew Sheila Darwin to be about thirteen or so, but she was a tiny little thing, standing just shy of two feet high. She was dressed all in black and ghostly pale, a lovely Goth little Barbie doll of sorts and the epitome of rebellion against a society that had judged her so harshly. Sheila might have been tiny yes, but she was riding high on Dewy's shoulders, all the better to see what Remy and this room had to offer. They were a cautious pair, taking seats in the back and whispering amongst themselves.

The next gang of kids that came soon after promised to be more controversial – Malcolm was at the head of the group, one that included both Tilda and Grace. Malcolm was a large kid, bright green and physically powerful. He had a strong presence here in this room – he was riding high on his current wave of popularity amongst the new kids – outspoken and charismatic among the more aggressive kids, he was a natural leader but was hampered by an overwhelming sense of self righteous mutant pride that was sure to trip him up at some point. He liked being the boss and the power it gave him. He was going to be more than a handful, Remy could see.

One might wonder why it was that Remy had chosen Malcolm for his squad, but it had in fact been Logan's idea. It had come about after a sideways conversation where Logan had asked Remy about how Julien was doing after his mishap with Kimble. Julien's people skills were still shaky and so Logan had questioned, "You sure Julien's okay to be on a team?"

"His shine ain't all bad. He's not a complete asshole, more like half and half," Gambit had answered, slanting his hand from side to side with a slight smile at his own joke. His eyes were serious though, he wanted Logan to believe that the boy could be salvaged. "I t'ink de structure would be good for him. We already know he can take an order."

Logan nodded, chewing on a cigar thoughtfully. "Okay then. If yer set on that idea then this is what you do. You get Julien and then ya put that big bruiser Malcolm on there as well."

Remy's eyes went wide with surprise. "You serious? Malcolm gonna chew him a new one. Julien'll be dead in a week."

Logan just grinned, pleased with the idea now. Being feral, he knew his logic was sound – it wasn't much different than jailhouse rules where if you wanted to be left alone, you found the biggest bully and beat the snot out of him. It was still about respect. "Maybe, maybe not. They'll tussle a bit, but so what? Just think it through, that big boy is the leader of the kids gunnin' fer Jules. You need him, bad. You get him to change his mind about yer pup, you can turn this all around. He'll call off his boys, just you wait and see."

Remy nodded, seeing some wisdom in this. "I see yo' point, patron. Merci."

Logan, of course, couldn't help but add, "It might also be a good idea if you can get a hold of an electricity kid. Could help keep those Siskans of yers in line, seein' as how you have so many around."

Remy bristled a bit at that. It was now a fairly well known fact that the non-organic Siskans didn't handle electrical overloads well. It was one the main reasons why Logan had so many Tasers now in stock. " 'M boy's'll be fine," Remy promised, unable to keep the sharpness out of his tone and then walked off. He hadn't cared for the implied dig against the boys, but it was still there in the back of his mind all the same. He wasn't happy with acknowledging the sad fact, but he knew it wasn't like Zander was all that predictable right now. He had grudgingly taken Logan's advice and had quietly selected a boy named Charlie Wilson who could spark a bit of lightning here and there, one that was book smart but timid, the main reason he had been denied a team in the past. He had the odd nickname of Trigger, odd enough that Remy wasn't sure he wanted to know just how he had come by it. He wasn't part of Malcolm's crew and Remy had yet to see if he had agreed to come.

Malcolm had agreed readily enough to join this crew, why wouldn't he? It was just too prestigious an opportunity to pass up. And it was Malcolm who made the most noise now upon entering the room just as Remy had expected him to. "What the fuck is he doing here?" Malcolm wanted to know, glaring at Julien. It didn't escape his notice that Julien was still wearing Frost's restraining collar. The boy was still weak, still pathetic.

Remy was quick to answer, his voice a bit sharp in response to Malcolm's tone. "He's here because he need lookin' after jus' like you. Frost taught him de wrong way, now we're goan teach him de right. You 'ave a problem wit dat de door's right dere. But I guarantee you you'll regret it. Dis squad will be de best or at de very least be de mos' notorious, which work out de same if you all be lookin' for a status bump. Y'all will learn t'ings wit me dat no one else 'ere goan teach you. Dat's a fact."

"Fine by me," Grace said, interrupting, and boldly walked all the way over to where Kyle was sitting. She fearlessly plopped down in the seat next to him, giving him the eyes. She was still wearing Logan's ripped up jacket. "Hey, stranger," she greeted merrily. "Remember me? I'm Grace."

Kyle didn't recall her at all, but assumed she must know him since she was so familiar with him. He couldn't help but blush a little at her boldness, her scent showed she had no fear of him. He thought she was pretty even with her horns and strange slotted eyes, and had no idea why she was looking at him like that. It both pleased and excited him, but made him a little sad at the same time. He figured that if she really knew who he was, she'd be running away in fear. There was no way this could be anything real.

He did wonder if perhaps she was Logan's property, the man's scent was still strong on that jacket. He had no desire to challenge Wolverine over anything right now, it had proven to be much too painful in the past. All he wanted now was some kind of peace. He did smile at her, unable to hide a bit of fang as he replied, " 'M Kyle."

Grace didn't fear those long teeth, no, it only made her widen her smile as she said, "Well, Kyle. I'm glad you're along for the ride. Looks like it's going to be a whole lot of fun."

Kyle just blushed a bit and dropped his eyes, oddly shy in front of this beautiful creature. She could have no idea what a temptation she was for him, or the danger it presented her. The darkness within him was quite deep and it would take a strong heart to banish it. It would be risky for her, perhaps even fatal, should she dare to find out.

Tilda was oblivious to all this. She followed Grace like a faithful groupie and took the seat next to her. Her eyes were all on Kimble and she waved to him, blushing herself when he returned her greeting with a shy smile of his own. It was true she had a slight crush on her gallant rescuer and she was happy to see he was here.

Malcolm hadn't appreciated the girls taking away some of his thunder but he took his seat all the same, his arms crossed across his large chest and his scowl obvious to anyone with eyes. The others filtered in one by one and the room filed up, most of them giving Malcolm some space so that it was pretty much him and Julien directly up front.

Remy watched them come, inwardly pleased by the large turnout though he tried to keep it to himself. It looked as though all the ones he had chosen had come, even Trigger, that lightning bug he'd asked for, what an ego boost. When they had all settled down and it looked like no one else was coming, Remy got right down to business. He'd had no real speech planned for this event, but that didn't mean he didn't have an agenda. There were things that had to be said right up front and he got right down to it.

He cleared his throat and raised his hands, quieting the room, and began by saying, "Bonjour, everyone, and welcome to de firs' and hopefully not de last meeting of de soon to be formed Red Team."

Grace, outspoken and not the least bit shy, clapped her hands loudly and cheered, "Long may she reign and stomp some serious ass!"

That brought out some laughter from the rest and Remy couldn't help but smile. Enthusiasm was always welcome. Still he raised his hands and got them back under control. "True dat, but see 'ere, dis a special team wit' special folks. None of you are 'ere by accident and so some t'ings gotta be said.

"I ain't gonna lie. Dis a last ditch try and second chance crew fo' de most part. Dere's people out dere and even some in 'ere dat t'ink some of you ain't got no chance in 'ell of makin' it. Dat alla you a bunch of fuck ups and not wort' anyt'ing to anybody, dat none of you capable of makin' a difference.

"Don't feel bad, I'm in de same boat as you. Dis my first crack at leadin' a squad and dere's some out dere dat say I'm just as much of a loser as some of you. Dat I don' 'ave one clue of what I'm doin'. I say dey all wrong, each and every one, and now 'ere's our chance to prove it. We'll all screw up together, learn from our mistakes together, and laugh in alla dey faces, hein? We'll do it by keepin' open communication – no secrets, tellin' no lies, by stickin' together thick and thin. One man fall, de nearest guy pick him up. De weakest one get helped by de strong no matter if de trouble be physical or mental, schoolwork or in de gym. We do dis t'ing, work real 'ard, den I say not only will we prove all of dem assholes wrong, but we'll be de best damn squad in the Complex. I wanna do more dan just get by and so should you. We deserve it. You just gotta earn it. Dis de Gold Team X-man way and it gonna be de Red Team way, too."

"Here, here!" Grace crowed again and clapped loudly, proving herself to be the team's built in cheerleader. She was good at it, the others were making their own sounds of approval. Well, all except Malcolm. He was sitting still in his seat, not quite buying all of this pep talking. For him, words weren't going to be good enough. He would have to wait and see if Remy actually came through with his actions as well.

Remy nodded and let them go a bit before raising his hands and quieting them all down again. "Now before we get too far, it time for some introductions. Most of you know me, je suis Remy LeBeau, codename Gambit. I been an X-man a long time. Mebbe not a Gold Team member, but 'ere long enough to know m' way around.

"Behind me 'ere is Kimble and Aiden, my 'go to' guys. Dey my second in command and you will obey dem de same as you would me when it come to trainin' and missions. Dey also married to each other so if any of you find dat too much to 'andle, say so now and dismiss yo'self, de door's right dere."

Kimble blanched in fear at Remy's words, he had been given no such warning that they would be outed here and he wasn't sure how to react.

**/ **_**Don't you dare run, **_Zander warned from within, his voice dark and serious. He would have none of Kimble's cowardice. _**/ Don't you fuckin' dare! / **_

Kimble stayed put, obeying that voice that he knew far too well. It wasn't fear of Zander that kept him in place, however, it was his promise to Aiden. Aiden had insisted that Kimble trust him and now that was being put to the test. He loved his precious Dreamer too much to cave so easily now to his own fears. He would give Aiden that chance to keep them safe. They were married and that was that, no matter what anyone thought. He would just have to be strong and hope that no one actually left the room on his account.

Aiden of course just smiled, his grin wide and proud. He was more than pleased to have his relationship upheld and out in the open. He hated lies and he hated hiding. He wouldn't have to worry about any of that now, which was precisely Remy's point.

The thief had continued, saying, "We got enough to work on here just bein' a team wit'out anyone carrying on about dis. I don't wanna hear anyt'ing more about dis now or later. Dey already prove demselves to me time and time again in de field and 'ere at 'ome. De only ones dat got to prove anyt'ing to me is all of you. Dey got nuthin' to prove to you either, only you to dem, comprenez? Keep in mind dat when it come time to choose who gets to stay and who has go, it's dem I'm goan be listenin' to, so it would be a good idea fo' you to be on deir good side."

No one made to leave, much to Kimble's relief. Most of the kids just looked at one another in confusion, as though it was no big deal. There was, however, a brief flicker of confusion in Tilda's shine at Remy's statement. Kimble couldn't be sure if it was disappointment that he was not available for her or if it was the gender of his partner in marriage. Still, she kept her peace and said nothing. What Kimble hadn't realized was that for most of these young mutants, their sexual orientation was the least of their problems. That didn't mean no one had nothing to say about it, however.

Malcolm just snorted and jeered, "Who cares about a couple of gay freaks in a place that is one big freak show already? I could care less what those guys do. What I do have a problem with is Little Julie One Hand here. He's a sicker freak than those two will ever be."

Remy just shook his head, already anticipating Malcolm's complaints, and raised a hand, asking for patience. He addressed the whole room as he replied, "I already say dis a last chance team fo' some of you. Oui, dere's some delinquents 'ere and Julien is one of dem. Kyle is dere too." He gestured to the young feral in orange and continued, "You sayin' dat no one 'ere entitled to a chance to make up for some wrong doin' in de past? T'ink real 'ard on dat. It ain't no big secret where I got most of my trainin' from. You sayin' dat even someone like me could never measure up?"

Malcolm growled and raised a bright green hand of his own. The last thing he wanted was for Remy to feel disrespected. Julien was his target, not the leader for this potential squad. "That's different. You never betrayed your own kind!"

"You so sure?" came Remy's quick reply, his eyes tinged with sadness now.

Malcolm started to say something but the look on Remy's face halted him. He just shook his head and turned away, slouching some in his seat. He wasn't going to win this argument, clearly, and didn't want to endanger his spot on the team. He had no intention of leaving, oh no, not when Remy was giving him such easy access to Julien. He would have his revenge, one way or the other.

Remy could see the kid had backed off but not down. He addressed the room again when he said, "Look it, 'ere. Julien my kid and oui, he had 'is share of troubles. Maybe what Green Jeans 'ere is trying to say is mebbe he 'fraid Julien 'ere goan get special treatment. Dat ain't goan 'appen. He 'ave to earn 'is place de same as all de rest of you. He fail, he out, dat's my promise to you. All I'm askin' is dat you at least give 'im and everyone else 'ere a shot.

"De most important t'ing de Xs taught me is dat bein' on a team is like bein' in a family. We all of us different people. We all got different strengths and weaknesses. Our primary goal 'ere is to find de best way to make all dose differences work for us, not against us.

"Nobody 'ere perfect. Everybody in dis room got some kind of strike against dem dat'll keep you off a regular team, maybe even fo' good. Psych, physical, disciplinary, whatever. What dose t'ings are ain't nobody's business, I just want you all to know dat you all on even ground 'ere.

"It's true not all of you goan make it, we usually 'ave about a fifty percent drop out rate after de first coupla months of trainin'. Dere ain't no disgrace in failin' to make dis team, only in you not tryin' as hard as you possibly can. In not helpin' de guy next to you. One guy might not make de best athlete, you might not be de best in class. We all gotta 'elp each other out. What I'd love to see is us beatin' dat fifty percent average. How about all of us pass, eh? What could be better dan dat?

"Not everyone is meant to be on a team, and dere are many ways to serve. If you don' make it, I hope you at least walk away a better person for 'avin' been 'ere wit us. You still family, eh? In or out."

Grace cheered again at that, clapping her hands loudly, bringing it out in the other kids. Remy might never have thought of himself as much of a speaker, but with Grace's help, he was winning them over, he could see. His smile was large as he asked, "So? You all in?"

The response was loud and clear, the whole room came alive with sound. Some of the ones in the back even stood, clapping loudly and with great enthusiasm. No one was going anywhere.

Remy stood up himself, lifted up by their great spirits. He was feeling no regrets for his decision to do this now, only that he had wasted some time putting this off. "D'accorde," he cheered. "Let's do it!"

He waved them on, herding them off towards the training rooms and a hopeful future.

* * *

Logan sat at his desk in his office, his head down and tired. He knew that because of his gruff manner and direct way of speaking that he came off as dispassionate and uncaring. It wasn't true. For the past couple of days he'd had to keep his office door shut and block his ears to keep from going mad at the sound of Warren screaming from two doors down. Whatever hateful thoughts he'd had toward the guy had faded fast, the man was being punished enough by his own actions beyond anything Logan could have dreamed up for him.

Hank had had the benefit of his precious Siskan to get him through the worst of the ravaging effects of the Honey poisoning, Warren was not so lucky. Here in his locked cell, Maylee had done all she could for him -- she had set up an IV and was slowly feeding him pain killers and fluids. They had him hooked up to all sorts of monitors, keeping watch on his progress and tracking his ups and downs. Maylee was at a bit of a loss as to what else they could do for him exactly, this sort of thing was well beyond anything she had been trained for. Hank was feeding her a steady stream of suggestions but so far, not much of it was helping.

Warren had been alternating from fever to chills, from vomiting to a deep thirst. He coded three times the first day he'd been in here and those three times they had brought him back from death, so Maylee hadn't wandered far. It was harder treating him here in the Security wing, but there wasn't much else she could do for him even if he had been kept in the Lab. They had little or no knowledge on how to treat Honey poisoning to begin with and she was basically winging it under Hanks's guidance from afar. The big blue doctor still didn't trust himself to come anywhere near his former friend.

Unable to ease Warren's suffering, they had resorted to placing him in a medically induced coma just this morning, finally providing Logan with some momentary peace. Well, his ears got some relief if not his heart. His auditory discomfort was now replaced with the disquiet of watching Jean hover over Warren's now lifeless body, her face lined with silent pain. As close as Hank had been to Warren, Jean had been so much more. Logan might not care about Warren's internal agony, but he was all too aware of hers.

Logan stared numbly at the papers in front of him, wasting his time. He was too stressed out from the uncomfortable situation to do any real work. Giving up, he grumbled to himself and got up, grabbing his jacket on his way out. He could smell Jean's distress even before he opened the door to the holding cells, it raised the hair on his arms. He had never gotten over his attraction to her even though his marriage to Karen had taken the heat out of it. He still couldn't bear to see Jean suffer.

He found her where he expected to, lying on a small sofa that had been dragged down the hallway and placed across from Warren's cell. She looked beat, her eyes were dark and tired, her long red hair a bit wild. He couldn't stop himself from stroking the worst of those loose locks back into place. "How ya doin', Red?"

She smiled at the use of her nickname. It had been a while since he had used it. "I'm all right. Better than he is," she said, gesturing to where Warren lay on his bed.

When Logan had first seen Warren transformed, he had known the changes were not complete and he'd been right. Much of Warren's blond hair was now gone, replaced by long white feathers that framed his face in a disordered Mohawk, taking away from his former beauty. His face was still twisted in pain, but had narrowed, his nose longer now than it had been, bringing his face almost to a point. Not a beak, but still menacing looking. The fact that he was now half starved wasn't improving anything. They had been feeding him through the IV but it wasn't doing much more than keeping him alive. He had a long road ahead of him if he pulled through this.

"You should get some rest," Logan suggested, the play of his hands on her head never slowing.

She didn't stop his affectionate attention, she knew that it was as far as it would ever go, they had made peace with it long ago. They were both married, both happy. "I've been helping him telepathically. I should stay."

Logan grunted. "Anyone even still in there, darlin'? It hasn't sounded like it."

"He's walled himself up deep, it's hard getting to him, but now that he is resting better I've been making some progress. He is in less pain and I think he's going to make it."

Logan wasn't so sure, but he hadn't wanted to upset her by disagreeing. Instead, he changed the subject by asking, "I don't suppose he even feels the least bit bad about what he did to Star?"

Jean hesitated in answering, but opted for the truth. It wasn't like she could lie to Logan anyhow, he would know it the moment she uttered the words. "He never regarded Star as alive so no, he doesn't feel bad. At least not yet. Perhaps when he wakes, you can help him turn around like you did."

Logan just grunted again. It had gotten out amongst the women that he'd had a change of heart in regards to the Siskans, something that he found a little embarrassing. It was like he'd gotten found out for having affection for children, something that he felt emasculated him just a small bit. He liked his gruff exterior, it protected him. He didn't want to be regarded as soft.

"You and Warren have a lot in common, you know," she continued, sensing his mood. "You're both very stubborn about things, but deep inside, you have good hearts."

Logan stepped away. "I ain't nuthin' like him!" he growled in irritation, flashing his teeth a little. "I would never use someone else for my own gain, not like he did."

She sat up, her eyes following him as he retreated. "Maybe not now, but I think you would have sacrificed one of Remy's Siskans before your little change of heart and not thought twice about it. Maybe not for something personal, but if it would have saved lives and you had them to offer first instead of someone living, you would have."

Logan just smiled in his way. "Ah, but the difference is that I still woulda asked. I've done many bad things, but I don't steal. Not even from Cyke," he ended suggestively, his eyes hard. It was true, as much as he had wanted Jean, he had never tried to wrench her away from Scott. He had never forced anything, not the way Warren had with Star. Wolverine had wanted Jean for himself, sure, but only if she had come willingly on her own. She hadn't.

Whatever argument that may have followed his words was cut short by the sound of Seth at the watch desk down the hall, asking for Logan. Logan was happy for the interruption, he preferred to have the last word in an argument anyhow. Besides, for Seth to have come all this way looking for him meant it was something important.

"Yeah?" Logan called out to him as he came towards him down the hallway.

Seth handed him yet another manila folder without preamble.

As soon as Logan opened it he understood why Seth had been so silent. Seth had worked with him long enough to know when he had come across something so top secret that it couldn't be discussed aloud. Seth hadn't wanted Jean to pick up on any of it. The folder contained information about the website Seth had discovered when researching the medallion Logan had found where Kristalay had been taken.

Logan's eyes met his. "Let's walk."

Seth nodded and bowed slightly at Jean, wanting her to know he had meant no disrespect in not speaking to her directly. She just smiled back at him and he turned away, satisfied. He had to walk fast though, Logan was moving quickly.

As soon as they had some privacy, Logan peppered him with questions. "Where did you find this? Is there a location we can get to? Do we know who it is?"

Seth did his best to answer. "I cracked the website and it gave me another IP address that lead to that note. If there is an actual location to go with the IP address, we'll find it eventually."

Logan was scanning through the pages Seth had printed out. A lot of it was hacker's code that he didn't understand and so he just kept sifting until he got to the end. The last printed page he could read well enough, though. It was of a solid black background with an opened white scroll floating in the center. In bold letters it read, "Welcome to the Lupine, Logan. I've been waiting for you a long time and I can't wait to finally meet you." It was signed, Romulus.

"Is that someone you know?" Seth asked cautiously, perplexed by the stricken look on Logan's face.

Wolverine had no good answer. Did he know a guy named Romulus? Not really. But the name resonated inside his brain, like something so ingrained into his DNA it could never be fully forgotten. It was like the scent in the ally way where he'd found the medallion. He couldn't exactly place it, he only knew that it was bad. Very bad.

**The end, for now ~ Squeekness**

* * *

Author's notes: Well, this concludes this latest series. Hope it wasn't too short and abrupt. I hope you may take some small comfort in knowing that whatever small bits that got chopped out of this will be included in my next series, Children of the Gods. It will be a while however until I can begin posting that, I've only just begun to flesh out the outline I have for that. It's all new so very little of it is written now and I want to wait until I have it most of the way done before I begin posting it in case I want to change something. Plus I want to avoid the big long waits in between books. It shouldn't be a long series, hopefully the same size as Twilight was or even shorter. I am having some fun with what I have written so far, it will be the tale of Remy's first Red Team mission, they are off to give Logan a hand with Romulus. I do hope to begin posting it early 2010. Hope you guys like it. Best wishes and my thanks to all of you who have stuck by me all this time. — Squeekness

EDIT: Well, February is upon us and I still haven't got much of that next series done as I would have liked to by now. I've had my share of distractions (see my profile for some details, I updated it) but I am trying to get back on track. Looks more like I won't have anything up until early summer at the earliest. Sorry for that.... Thanks in advance for your patience and I hope to have something up soon. :)


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